when strangers meet
by bokukuroo
Summary: As Shouto begins to get ready, Izuku closes his door behind him and heads to the nearest train station by foot. Shouto arrives as well, only twenty minutes later. They are two train tracks apart. One checks his phone for new messages from his family, the other sips from his order of black coffee. They don't notice each other. — a "kimi no na wa" au tw: child abuse & self harm
1. epilogue

When he opens his eyes to the ceiling, his vision is blurred. A heavy sigh leaves his parted lips as he closes them for a moment. A few seconds after, he finally sits up, still not completely used to the feeling of a western bed. Gaze focused on the soft sheets that are draped over his legs, he runs his fingers over his curly, crimson hair. He stares at his left palm, his heart squeezing underneath the lack of something there. What exactly, he can't tell. He brings his fingertips to his eyes, watching as the small teardrop gently drips down his index finger.

For years, things have been like this: waking up with tears in his eyes and the feeling of loss craving its claws into his skin.

In a small apartment that's about ten minutes away from his, another man finishes his cereal as he checks the news on his phone. His full cheeks are dusted with countless freckles, and he has bright green eyes that are glued to the screen. The phantom feeling of a bracelet still tangles his wrist and he has no idea how to stop it. So every once in a while he brushes his fingers against its place, heart sinking when he realizes for the third time that week that it is long gone. He can't remember who gave it to him, and he can't remember where he left it. All he remembers is soft hands and tired eyes.

As the first man begins to get ready, the second closes his door behind him and heads to the nearest train station by foot. The first arrives as well, only twenty minutes later. They are two train tracks apart. One checks his phone for new messages from his family, the other sips from his order of black coffee. They don't notice each other.


	2. chapter 1

Shouto Todoroki wakes up with his alarm clock blaring. He groans and yawns, blindly searching for it with a heavy hand. He rubs his left eye, right above the scars he has had for about a decade. He still isn't sure why he has them, though he very frequently relives the how in his mind. He slides his thumb to silence the alarm, _6:45 am _screaming at him, but he doesn't move, letting the morning sunlight warm up his body.

After a few minutes that seem like only seconds, his bedroom door slides open. "Shouto, get up," Fuyumi calls him in a gentle voice. "Breakfast is getting cold."

"I'm going," he murmurs, and she smiles at him. It's not one of her usual smiles: there's something to it he can't quite pin down. It bothers him.

With a slight headache, he begins to change, rubbing his temples every now and then as he puts on the only clean white shirt he owns. He has to do laundry soon.

He heavily slides the door open and steps out of his room, moving to the living room.

"Mornin', li'l bro!" Natsuo greets him with a grin. He rustles his hair. "Are you feeling any better?"

Shouto frowns at him before kneeling in front of the table. "What are you talking about? I'm fine," he says, carefully uncovering the rice pot and filling his bowl with the steamed food. He serves himself some grilled salmon and still hot miso soup. He picks up his chopsticks and stuffs his face with rice.

"You didn't seem fine yesterday," Touya teases with a smirk.

"What?" Though his voice is muffled, the confusion is clear.

Fuyumi shakes her head. "You were just acting really out of it."

Natsuo yells out a goodbye from the front door and the siblings reply automatically, focusing on breakfast again very quickly.

Touya sighs and pours himself lemonade. "You said thanks before eating breakfast."

The food in Shouto's throat seemingly stops there, half swallowed. He frowns and gulps, scratching his temple. "That's ridiculous."

"No shit."

"You were very fidgety, too," Fuyumi comments. She opens her mouth but is interrupted by the small radio they own that sits next to the TV.

As if to prevent Shouto from finding out more, it starts telling them the day's announcements through some static. Shouto eats breakfast in silence as he listens, eyes on some extra miso soup.

«19 degrees for today, very sunny...»

Another boring day. He wishes he could escape the nothing his village offers him. Go somewhere big like Tokyo. At least then he would be busy with something other than studying for exams or after school clubs he couldn't care less about. Fuyumi turns on the TV once the radio is silent. Shouto raises his eyes to the screen, as the newscaster discusses the upcoming comet with a scientist that sits by her side. Under them, "Tiamat Comet: Visible to the Naked Eye in One Month" could be read.

"Near the festival, too, damn," Touya comments. "You wanna go see it? I know you liked stargazing when you were a kid."

Shouto stops chewing and turns to him. He's looking at him, burn scars on his left cheek that extend to his neck staring at him as much as his bright blue eyes. The vague memory of how they came to be stings Shouto's mind in an unwelcome bitter reminder. "Yeah," he murmurs, focusing on his nearly finished breakfast.

"You remember that time we had a meteor shower at, like, fuckin' midnight and you made us go out with mom to see it?"

At the mention of their mother, the air as if freezes and stiffens. The only thing that fills the silence is the newscaster's words.

«The comet that only visits once every 12000 years will finally draw close enough to Earth that it will be visible to the naked eye. It will last a few days, and research agencies all over the globe are ready to observe this spectacle.»

"Sorry," Touya mumbled, his regret heavy.

"Please don't talk about her," Fuyumi says in a small voice.

He eyes her as she takes in a deep breath. She has everything her mother had, soft curls, gentle eyes, and the thing that distinguishes them is her liveliness. Touya apologizes and Shouto looks at him. In a strange way, he pities him. He looks like their father and there's only so much dyed black hair hides.

He knows that, no matter how much he despises it, he and Natsuo got the best of it; Natsuo looking like the grandmother he barely remembers, and Shouto looking like a mix of their parents. It's something he ponders about daily, something that almost haunts him.

Sometimes he wonders if his mother would have left sooner if he looked like Touya but didn't hide it.

His train of thought and the talk of his mother ended his appetite. "I'm gonna go."

Touya only nods, getting up to put away his dirty dishes.

"See you," Fuyumi says, her voice soft and trembling slightly. "Have fun at school!"

"Yeah."

The walk outside and downstairs is freeing. He leaves his family behind, the bad and the good. With a shake of his head and a deep intake of breath, he walks down the hill on his way to the shop Yaoyorozu and Tsuyu always sit at, waiting for him. There's a soft breeze that plays with his hair, and to anyone noticing him they'd see it as flames dancing atop his head. He looks over into the lake as he walks, hand to his bag. His smartphone rings in the pocket of his trousers but Shouto ignores it. He wants a break.

He stops when he reaches the small store owned by Kamui, Natsuo's workplace as well. "Good morning."

"Hi, Shouto," Tsuyu Asui greets him with her croaky voice.

"Todoroki, hello! Are you feeling better?"

He frowns and brushes his hair away from his eyes to no avail, the wind blowing his bangs back into place. "What's with everyone and asking me if I feel better?"

Tsuyu bites into the fresh green apple in her hand and gets up. "You were acting really weird yesterday, that's all," she explains with a full mouth.

"So has everyone I know told me."

"Maybe it was some sort of possession, or extreme sleepwalking!"

Shouto turns to Yaoyorozu and frowns at her in confusion. "Possession," he repeats, and the word returns to her dead.

She puts her hands to her blushing cheeks and closes her eyes. "Nevermind, nevermind."

"All those occult magazines are gonna get to your head, Momo."

Before she can defend herself, a deep, harsh voice interrupts her as it rings through the street, twisted by a loudspeaker. Shouto and his friends stop in their tracks. He almost makes eye contact with his father, enough for panic and anger to boil in his chest. The man is giving some sort of speech about the upcoming mayoral election, a small group of people surrounding the deserted parking lot he stands in. Shouto scowls and looks away, speeding up his pace as Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu do the same. They step in to shield him from his father's cold, hateful gaze and from people's unnecessary comments.

"Shouto!" The shout is deafening and more than sufficient to bring tears to his eyes. He stops walking, Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu looking back at him. His eyes are on the ground, and the dread of getting yelled at settles deep in the back of his spine. "Stand up straight, you're disgracing the family name!"

There's sneaky laughter. Comments like, "Harsh even on family." bruise his ribs as if they're his father's belt.

"Let's go, Todoroki," Yaoyorozu says softly.

Tears are stinging his eyes. There is no Chinese character for Shouto to describe his hatred for his father. Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu speak, trying their best to distract Shouto from the public humiliation. Their words are muffled by the resentment that crushes Shouto's lungs.

Mr. Aizawa speaks about some Kanji related to the book they are currently reading, and writes it out on the blackboard. The soft but precise sound of the chalk hitting the board and Mr. Aizawa's deep voice echoes a little throughout the classroom, only to be stifled by the students' audible whispering once it reaches Shouto. He can make up some words: "Tasokare" and "Oumagatoki". Both mean dusk, he can hear Aizawa explain. Tired of staring at the green mountains and students playing soccer outside, Shouto turns his head to face the teacher. He turns his notebook on its side and opens it, grabbing a pen to finally take down some notes. He turns over the pages and finds handwriting he does not recognize.

"Shouto (? what kanji is it…) Todoroki"

The messy Kanji for his last name and round Hiragana that spells his first tentatively stare him dead in the eyes. He frowns, utterly confused, as he flips through the notebook, trying to find that unfamiliar handwriting again. That single page seems to be it.

"Todoroki!"

He jumps in his seat and his head snaps in Mr. Aizawa's direction. "Huh? I mean, _yes_?"

He sighs. "Read from page 59." His dark eyes settle deep in his soul. Usually, he finds them comforting. Today, they're just slightly threatening. Shouto grabs his book and gets up to his feet, eyeing his notebook for only a second. "Glad you remember your name today, Mr. Todoroki."

Shouto frowns at him as the class laughs at the joke. He catches Tsuyu snicker only a bit.

"You really don't remember?"

The midday sun is covered by the big tree they sit next to, its rays making their way through the thick leaves, painting the ground gold. Shouto shakes his head, biting into an already cold rice ball. Touya left the salmon in the grill for too long. "No."

"Well…" Yaoyorozu puts her index finger to her chin, tapping it gently. "How do I put this…?"

"You used honorifics, Shouto. Not to mention, it took you forever to remember our names in the first place," says Tsuyu, blunt and to the point as ever.

"Plus you didn't even know where your desk was. _And_ you forgot about volleyball club."

Shouto is silent for a while, trying to wrap his head around the concept of saying something like _Yaoyorozu-chan_. He then sighs as he realizes the call out he's going to have to endure when he goes to volleyball club later. "All of that is just… fucking insane."

"Agreed!" Yaoyorozu finally closes her book between a finger that separates the pages she's in. "It was as if you were a whole different person, I'd say."

Shouto stabs the strawberry juice box with the small straw, now that he's done with his lunch. He takes a sip as he closes his eyes, thinking hard about the other day, trying to fish something to help him figure out what had happened. It's in vain, nothing comes to him. And then he remembers. It's not a lot but it isn't _nothing_.

Curly black hair. Freckles. A big city.

He opens his eyes and lets out a sigh, the straw dangling between his teeth. The sun hits his eyes and he moves a hand to shield himself. His bracelet slips a little down his slightly tanned wrist. After a bit of grumbling, he finally allows himself to speak up, "What I got makes me sound insane."

"Tell us anyway," Tsuyu encourages him. She gets to her feet and begins to stretch.

Shouto hums, still looking at the sky through his parted fingers, sipping the last of the juice. "It was my dream, but it was… beyond fucking vivid." He shakes his head and turns to look at Tsuyu. She nods to show she's listening, busy as she is with smoothing down her skirt. He takes in a breath and sighs deeply. "I felt like… Like I was someone else."

Yaoyorozu gasps and holds her book close to her chest. Her cheeks are flushed and her wide eyes are shimmering. "Maybe they're like, memories of a past life!" She holds up her now open book, showing the pages filled with complicated words Shouto doesn't know the meaning of. "In this, the main characters are two star crossed lovers who keep finding each other throughout time, falling in love again and again! Maybe it's something like that! You could be having memories of a past life where you were with your own true soulmate."

Shouto cocks his head, frowning at her, almost as much emotion as he can convey. The idea of a soulmate is ridiculous to him. Despite himself, his cheeks are slowly turning red.

"I don't think that has anything to do with Shouto's situation, Momo," Tsuyu says, smiling apologicatelly at her friend. Yaoyorozu gently excuses herself.

"Nevermind, anyway," he says as he sits up and puts his hands in his pockets. "It was kinda dumb of me to even mention it."

"Nah, I think it's something, Shouto," Tsuyu says. "Just not past lives, or anything." She finally sits down.

Yaoyorozu opens a small container filled with cut up pieces of melon and offers some to Tsuyu and Shouto. Tsuyu takes a couple, but Shouto shakes his head. "Perhaps it was just some strange dream induced by stress?" Yaoyorozu asks, gently chewing her food.

He takes in a deep breath through his nose. With that, he leans in and steals one single slice, popping it into his mouth. "Maybe."

"It could explain it! With your… with the mayoral campaign and everything…"

He swallows the snack, staring down at Lake Itoni, that lies in front of their school garden.

"Plus, isn't your family going to visit the _shintai_ soonish?"

"Yeah," he sighs. Although he understands tradition is something of importance to his family, he doesn't exactly look forward to the long walk that will lead them to the _shintai_—he never really has. Their mother was somewhat religious in that sense, so he figures the whole thing is just them keeping what's left of her alive while she rots away in some city hospital.

"It's something quite important, so it makes sense it's stressing you out." Yaoyorozu's voice shakes him away from his thoughts that slowly spiral down into the beginnings of a breakdown.

He blinks the tears away and puts his feet to the chair he's sat on and wraps his arms around his legs. A slight breeze is felt. It makes their hair float in the wind, and Shouto's arm hair stand up. "I can't wait to graduate and leave this stupid village," he murmurs, closing his eyes.

"You would like to go to Tokyo, right?" Yaoyorozu asks.

He nods gently and looks at her. "Any big city would do, to be honest. I just wanna be away from this place." From his family, and what holds him down. "It's got nothing for me."

"I would _love_ to go with you! My mother's parents have a place in Osaka, if I remember correctly," she says, turning her head to look into the lake. "My grades are good enough for me to earn a scholarship, I believe." She sighs and brushes her hair behind her ear in some vague attempt at making sure it won't get messy. She hums. "It would be great if the three of us could go to a big city together!" She looks back at him and Tsuyu excitedly, a smile on her lips.

"I'm okay with a peaceful life in a little town, I'd say," Tsuyu replies, the tip of her index finger resting against her chin. "Maybe with a new mayor, though."

Shouto breathes out a laugh, something dry and short. Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu look at him in shock. The lake barely moves, even as the wind picks up. Birds fly right over their heads, chirping happily.

After school, once he and Yaoyorozu are done with their respective clubs and Tsuyu with her studying, they all head home. Out of the blue, the criticism slips out of Shouto's lips, harsh and almost venomous, "Itoni is a goddamn disgrace."

Yaoyorozu agrees, and so does Tsuyu, which surprises him a bit. With little to no commentary from Shouto, the girls begin tearing apart their town. It almost brings a smile to his lips.

"There's no McDonald's or 7/11," Tsuyu says in her croaky voice, gesturing to the few restaurants they have, all lined up in a single, lonely street.

"Not to mention all the stores close at exactly 7 PM!"

"There are no jobs because there are no stores," Shouto finally joins in, his voice as monotone as ever. There's an underlying bitterness in his words.

"The train only comes by every other four hours, and there's only two buses in total."

"There are exactly zero cafes, as well. And no weather forecast on the internet."

"Our location is just a couple of mangled up pixels on Google Maps," finishes Tsuyu with a sigh. "It's true I wouldn't trade Itoni for the world, but I dunno… It's…"

"Boring," Shouto finishes her sentence for her. He sighs and walks up to a vending machine. "I think we've reached our limit," he comments. He slides in a couple of Yen and chooses a strawberry soda. The can falls heavily to the bottom. "Do you want anything?"

Yaoyorozu shakes her head. "I have my money. But thank you, Todoroki."

Tsuyu declines as well and sits down on the bench, taking a small can of cold coffee out of her school bag, that lies by her feet.

Shouto nods and sits down on the bench by the machine. With some trouble, he opens his can and drinks. He lets out a satisfied sigh. He runs the pad of his thumb over the round, metal corner of the can. A stray cat stretches not too far away from where they're sitting. It rubs its face against Shouto's legs, who moves to pet its rather small head as he drinks. The clouds above them slowly drift across the orange sky. The sun lazily sets behind the mountains, leaving them in the dark, their bodies lit up only by the vending machine's cold, artificial lighting. The nearby street lamp turns on only a couple of minutes after, its apricot light flickering a little but illuminating their spot pretty well. Once done with their drinks, they have talked about everything and nothing at all and the sun has long since disappeared, leaving behind a starry sky. Shouto digs his hand into his pocket, fishing for his phone. He slides his thumb over the screen, unlocking it and revealing a beautiful picture of Lake Itoni in spring as his background. Three unread messages.

**Fuyumi - 8:57 AM**

**Don't forget today we have to cook!**

**Fuyumi - 7:34 PM**

**Shouto, hurry up. We think dad might come by. Plus, we need you!**

**Touya - 7:48 PM**

**kid c'mon u have until 8 to show up**

He checks the time; only four minutes have passed since Touya's message. His hand vibrates. A new message.

**Natsuo - 7:52 PM**

**shoutoooooo we're all waiting for uuuu :((( hurry up! :D**

He sighs and taps a short reply of "on my way". He hits the reply button and sends it to his siblings, then locks his phone and places it back inside his pocket.

"Are you going, Todoroki?"

Shouto nods, scratching the stray cat's chin one last time before getting up. He picks up his school bag and throws the empty can into the nearest trash can. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya."

"Good luck with everything!"

He nods and gives them a hint of a smile before heading home. The stroll is still a little harsh on his legs, already slightly muscled from all the walking and volleyball. Shouto hates living in Itoni, that's true and something he would never take back. It's a boring place, nothing happens in it, it's isolated from every other corner in Japan. But then again, no other Japanese town, village or city has this view. The stars dancing and twinkling in the dark blue sky that covers the town like a warm blanket. Shouto reaches for a faraway, nonexistent hand. Tears behind his eyes beg to be released and so does a strong yell deep within his chest. He shakes his head and sighs, picking up his pace up to his house on top of a hill.

He opens the door and mutters, "I'm home" as if anyone would be able to hear that. Fuyumi, already dressed in her soft pink kimono, pokes her head out of the living room. "Shouto! We were getting worried!"

"I replied to your texts," he says, not meaning to sound sarcastic in the slightest.

Fuyumi laughs a little and shakes her head. "That you did. Go put on your hakama, yeah?"

Shouto nods. As he changes into the traditional clothing, the feeling of despair squeezes his heart. He wants out.

In an instant, he's ready. Fuyumi is waiting for him outside of his bedroom, and hands him some weights with colorful threads wrapped around them. "Let's go." The walk to the work room isn't long since all they have to do is cross a small river that flows down their home. Shouto remembers playing in the water with their mother. He doesn't understand why she's such a taboo topic around them. But then again, he doesn't remember anything about her past the incident that drove her away and the few good memories. In the room, Touya and Natsuo are already working on their respective braids—_ kumihimo_—, Touya working on a bigger scale, since he's the oldest. As the youngest, Shouto had only been in charge of wrapping thread around the weights until last year, when he had made the bracelet that hangs from his right wrist.

They all work in silence, the sound of the river gushing under their work room and the wooden, soft clattering echoing gently throughout the room. Shouto stops wrapping thread and moves to finish his braid. He decided on pure white, soft blue and a vivid green for the colors. He wanted the braid to represent the mountains of Itoni in the winter, one of his favorite landscapes.

"After this, we make the sake, right?" Touya asks, interrupting the harmonious sounds.

"You're the oldest, you tell us," Natsuo jokes.

Fuyumi stops working and covers her mouth to let a laugh pas her lips.

"Oh, go die."

The moment they're all alone together and manage to forget about their parents is nice, comforting even. Those are the occasions Shouto stays alive for, if he's being honest. Simple bits of his life like this. Laughing with his siblings, talking with his friends, staring at the lake and its surroundings. He has lost count of how many times those moments had helped him forget everything that had gone wrong with him.

"Okay, so," Touya speaks up again, "after this, we make the sake. Then put our share in those bottles mom had. I think we still have some left."

Everyone's voice syncs up in a single "Okay", producing giggles from everyone in the room, Shouto included.

Silence dominates the room once more. It's comforting like the kotatsu they gather around in the cold winter nights as they play card games. He wishes it could last forever. Soon enough, their braids are done. Touya moves to get each of their sake bottles, built out of strong but delicate looking clay that had been painted a beautiful, starking white. He hands each of them their own, and then gives them plates full of previously washed rice. Shouto puts a handful in his mouth, closes his eyes and chews. As he does, he thinks of his mother and his childhood. Most of it is happy, if he isn't thinking about his father. Whenever he comes to mind, he chews just a little bit faster, focusing his attention on that instead. Carefully, he spews it into the bottle, a bit of saliva dangling from his mouth. He wipes it to the back of his hand discreetly and shoves rice in his mouth once more. The cycle repeats: chew, think of his childhood, chew faster when his father comes to mind. And again, and again, until the porcelain plate Touya handed him is empty and there's small loose grains of rice in between his teeth.

As he hears his siblings chew and spit, he closes his eyes once more. He opens his eyes when he hears Touya let out a deep sigh, meaning he was done with his work. "Let's finish them up, guys," he says. With that, they all close their sake bottles and wrap the braids around the mouths.

Shouto prefers to tie it in a simple way. Wrap it around and then tug the corners underneath the seemingly endless strings. He stares at his work, his pride unspoken. The silence is welcomed, but it does not last for as long as Shouto wishes. Life is cruel, after all, and there's nothing it enjoys more than nipping someone's happiness in the bud. He blames it on life, anyway, instead of on his own words: "I miss mom."

Silence falls upon them. It seems as if even the river has stopped flowing, as if the crickets outside are silent in mourning. Shouto doesn't look up from the bottle in his grasp. He doesn't need to do so to feel his siblings tensing up. To feel Fuyumi's gaze on him.

"Shouto…"

"I do." He feels the repressed rage boiling deep within his stomach. He gently puts the bottle down, afraid of breaking it should he let the anger consume him. "It's ridiculous that we have to live by ourselves because our father is a piece of shit that took our mom away. Everything she did…" The crushing guilt hits him. Before he can stop them, tears are already spilling and his chest heaving with hiccups. It frustrates him. Showing any type of emotion does. "It was because of him. He, he fucking drove her up the wall. And, and," he wants to speak, he wants to stop sobbing like a child and talk. He slaps his own cheek harshly to bring some sense to himself.

"Hey, don't do that," Touya calls out, worry obvious in his voice.

He brings his closed hands to his eyes and lets himself cry. Lets himself feel for what seems like a decade—it has been decade. He had cried before. That crying, though, was muffled by his teeth pulling at his lip, stifled by the boxcutter blade against his skin, the sound of tiny blood drops emerging and spilling louder than his sobs could ever be. Those breakdowns had been waves crashing onto a quiet beach of pale sand. This was a tsunami, wrecking everything in its path.

He doesn't understand why he was the one to be scarred by her, why he was the tipping point. He isn't sure he wants to understand. There's nothing to understand, he tells himself in a bitter voice. He just wasn't enough. That's why she had snapped over him. Because the color of his hair and his left eye, the one he despises so much, had been her downfall. Because that had been more than enough to go insane. Two things he could not control.

Shouto is hugged, and it only serves to upset him further. He pushes them off and gets up to his feet. In a sudden moment, his body is as if struck by lighting—he runs, though uncomfortably. He trips on his way to the house, falling face first onto the grass that surrounds it. He spits some of it out and yells in frustration. "I'm fucking done! I'm done with this town and this life! Next time, just let me reborn as someone with a good fucking family in goddamn Tokyo!" He screams at the sky as if anyone will hear, let alone answer, his desperate prayers. His words echo throughout the mountains, only to fall into Lake Itoni and drown.


	3. chapter 2

The sound of an unfamiliar alarm slowly wakes him up. He gropes the floor for his phone, frowning when he realizes he's not lying on the floor or a futon, but on a western bed. Shouto groans and turns to his side. The open blinds welcome the sunlight into his bedroom, if he can even call it his. As he sits up and looks around, his eyes don't pick up anything familiar. The layout of the room is different than usual, not to mention the strange uniform that hangs by the closet. There are soft knocks on the door, and a gentle voice muffled by it says, "Izuku, are you awake?"

Izuku. Izuku?

The door creaks ever so slightly as it's opened with extreme care. The woman that stares at him is short, chubby, has lively, straight black hair, and smells of homemade cookies and warm hugs. "Izuku, is everything alright? Are you sick?"

Shouto blinks at her, unable to speak. He opens his mouth but no word slips past his lips. He simply shakes his head, not wanting to concern the nice woman further. Must be Izuku's mother.

She smiles, making her crow's feet crinkle. "I've made breakfast, so get ready fast, okay? Don't want it to cool down." She closes the door behind to give Shouto some privacy.

He nods at the door and whispers a "Thank you". Shouto slides out of his bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor. His phone rests on top of the shelf screwed into the wall above his bed, and it vibrates with the notification of a new message. He hesitates on grabbing the phone, after all, it's not entirely his. The smell of freshly made miso soup ends his inner debate, though, and he quickly picks it up. It is 7 in the morning and he has an unread LINE message from someone named "Iida", who Shouto assumes loves robots from the emoji next to the name spelled out in Katakana.

He decides texts are of secondary importance to getting dressed and being fed. He walks through Izuku's messy room—clothes are on the floor, as well as crumpled up pieces of paper and pens—and quickly changes. He notices something about his body is off: he's not nearly as tall as usual, his left hand is scarred but not his arm, those are instead covered in small bruises that are scattered everywhere, covering light brown freckles. Once Shouto has changed, he moves to the bathroom.

"Oh."

He's… cute. Shouto stares at his reflection in the stained mirror, as he touches the soft, thick black curls. He wonders if he should brush them as his hand slowly moves down his nose, now seemingly a little bigger, and touches the freckles dusted across puffy cheeks. On one of them, a bandage is covering tan skin. Upon touch, a short but harsh pain runs through his face. His eyes, a bright green and wide, are warm and sparkle, seem those of an extremely kind person. His lips are soft, and there is a small scar on the right of his bottom lip.

This boy's appearance confuses Shouto. The scars, bruises, and bandage all together give off some sort of dangerous and delinquent image. Despite that, everything else about him told him the exact opposite. That Izuku, whoever that was, was actually an extremely gentle and sweet person. Shouto tries to look at his body without it being in the mirror, but there's a pull to his reflection he can't shake off.

"Izuku, mama is gonna go to work now!"

Shouto stammers a little, unsure of what to say. He opens the door and figures his way to the front door. It's a relatively small house when compared to his own. The hallway barely exists, and there are only two rooms. "Have a good day," is all Shouto manages to say. The voice that comes out is soft and slightly high pitched, confusing him for a bit.

Izuku's mother smiles at him and leans on her toes to press a kiss to the curls that cover his forehead. "Be careful at school, okay? Just try to stay with Iida and Uraraka, yes?"

So, Iida is his friend.

"Yeah."

Izuku's mother doesn't move, only stares at Shouto with a hint of worry in her large eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem off, sweetie. Mama can call the school and you can stay home for the day."

Shouto shakes his head. "I'm okay." He silently curses himself for not knowing enough about Izuku. He wouldn't make the nice, caring woman worry if he did.

She smiles again and nods, then says her goodbyes once more and closes the door gently. Shouto blinks and lets himself fall on the chair nearby. He runs his hands over his naked arms, skinnier than usual, trying to find anything familiar on his body. The chirping of the birds outside is harshly muffled by the cars that speed by, as the drivers attempt to get to work during rush hour. His warm hand meets a soft thread and Shouto frowns and stops spacing off. His bracelet is wrapped around his wrist, just like before. He remembers something Yaoyorozu once told him about lucid dreams and specific objects you remember during them.

As Shouto stares at the dark red bracelet, his stomach growls, snapping him out of his transe.

He leans against the cold door, already in full uniform, more colorful than the one he is used to—white shirt, small red tie, dark green trousers. With a tap of his thumb, he opens Google Maps on Izuku's phone. The cars on the street under him as if scream with their speed. He quickly types in the name of the school that is printed on the shirt's lapel. As soon as the correct result pops up, he makes his way down the building's stairs. His legs don't hurt as much as he figured they would. Daily long walks to school and back should be enough to strengthen them, Shouto guesses.

As he reaches a big street, he stops in his tracks, completely forgetting, or perhaps ignoring, that he's late to school. His eyes widen in pleasant shock as he looks at the sea, no, the _ocean _of people that walk in front, beside and behind him. They talk to each other, on the phone, not at all, and their murmurs fill and echo throughout the street, up to the bright blue sky that up to that day he has only seen birds touch. Shouto takes in a breath and, for the first time in a while, he smiles.

"I'm in Tokyo," he whispers, his voice buzzing with excitement.

The announcements for Toshinori Yagi's new TV show—All Might—are everywhere. From what Shouto can tell, he's playing a hero, standing proud and tall in every poster that visually harms his eyes with the bright colors. Among them, there are the occasional anime billboards, not to mention the giant advertisements for every and all kinds of products, from perfumes to things Shouto wonders are even legal to show such a large audience.

The people's rumble becomes louder every step Shouto takes. It doesn't bother him in the slightest, and he actually welcomes it. It's almost comforting, in a completely different way the silence of his little town is. It doesn't take him long to reach his school. Like everything in Tokyo, it's gigantic. Students are walking around campus in groups, their colorful uniforms making them look like exotic animals at the local zoo.

"Oh, where did you buy this?"

"My mom got it in Takanawa."

"Hey, wanna skip next period?"

"Shut _up_!"

Shouto jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around and blinks at the taller boy, who pushes his glasses up with one hand as the other leaves him to repeatedly cut through the air. "Midoriya! You're late again! I'm deeply worried about your schedule."

"...Iida?"

The boy stares at him through the rectangle, clean glasses before nodding. "But of course! Don't tell me you've forgotten my name!"

"What…? No, that's—"

"It doesn't matter!" Iida puts his hand on Shouto's arm again and guides him down the hallway. "Uraraka is already waiting for us on the roof!"

Shouto eyes him and shakes his arm out of Iida's grasp, who lets him go relatively easier than he is used to. There are too many people in hallways, chatting, eating, some of them doing both at the same time. It's cramped, and while Shouto doesn't mind it too much, he's starting to slowly miss his little town. The roof is wide and the bright sun rays reflect off the white flooring, blinding him. He squints and follows Iida to the shadowed floor next to the small building that leads inside. A short girl is already sitting there, typing away on her phone as brown bangs fall over her eyes.

"Uraraka! Midoriya seemed to be lost."

"Oh, Deku!" She puts her phone on the floor, and lays her chopsticks on top of her bento. "Where have you been? Iida and I have been worried." Her gentle eyes glimmer as she looks up at him. Shouto realizes he should be sitting down and does just that, in front of Uraraka. "Deku?"

Shouto squints at her for a second, confused by the nickname. Wouldn't Deku mean something like blockhead? Is his Japanese that bad? Iida sits next to him and points at his empty hands. "Where is your bento?"

"Oh." He opens his bag, big and yellow, and searches for it, finding it at the bottom. It's wrapped in a cloth decorated with grey cats on a black background and, when Shouto opens it, he finds a cat face made out of a sliced boiled egg and a cherry tomato on top of his rice.

Uraraka and Iida talk to each other and try to get Shouto to join in their conversation, asking him questions of the "Isn't it, Deku?" or "How did the test go for you, Midoriya?" variety. However, Shouto's answers are all extremely reduced, all a couple of nods and mumbled "Yeah"s.

"Deku, is there anything wrong? You seem off."

"My mother—"

"Mother?" Uraraka seems confused.

Shouto blinks. "Mama."

Iida and Uraraka stare at him as he starts to silently panic. "Mommy."

They frown at him. "Mom."

Iida lets out a sigh as he goes back to eating his sandwich, and Uraraka simply smiles.

"My _mom_ asked me the same thing earlier. She thought I was sick."

"Well, do you feel ill?"

He shakes his head as he raises his bento closer to his mouth, so he can eat the rice faster. A ball to the back of Shouto's head makes him choke. Iida is quick to slap his back gently but with enough force it'll help him stop. Uraraka herself catches Shouto's bento box as his hand fly to his throat. Shouto takes deep intakes of breath and accepts the water bottle Uraraka gives him.

"Oi, Deku!"

Shouto frowns and turns his head, the back of his hand wiping his lip. A blonde boy is standing in front of him, another behind him, pulling at the sleeve of his undone uniform shirt. He has no idea who this delinquent looking kid is and, to be quite honest, he's not sure he wants to know. "Do I know you?" is all Shouto says.

"Do y— Did the ball give you some fuckin' concussion?!"

"Bakugou, c'mon," the boy pulling at his sleeve pleads. He waves at Shouto and gives him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, dude."

Shouto glares at the blonde kid and turns around, ignoring him. "Uraraka, Iida, should we go somewhere else now?"

Uraraka nods her head and starts putting away her things into a small brown bag. Iida is louder with his answer, "Delightful idea! I actually was thinking about asking you and Uraraka if you two wanted to visit a recently inaugurated coffeeshop after school!" His hands move in a robotic fashion and Shouto understands the emoji by his name on Izuku's phone.

He attempts to smile, something soft and small, and nods. "I'd love to."

Uraraka fidgets a little. "I don't have my allowance yet…"

"I can pay for your things," Shouto suggests, looking up at her as he gets back to his feet, bag straps over his shoulders.

Uraraka's eyes light up and her already rosy cheeks turn bright pink. "That'd be lovely!"

Shouto smiles, again something shaky. They begin to walk away, the sun blinding them once more with its rays. Shouto looks behind him, frowning at the boy who is glaring at him. As opposed to the cold rage Shouto is used to, the boy's dark brown eyes burn with something else—some kind of deep rooted grudge and anger, sharp and poisonous bitterness, not towards just Izuku, but towards himself as well. He looks away, still feeling his glare on his back. He walks towards the entrance of the school with Iida and Uraraka, his feet heavy on the steps of the stairs and the wooden floor beneath the starking white lockers, which one of them identified by neatly typed Kanji of the students' names. He has some trouble with finding his own, too used to looking for Todoroki. "Midoriya Izuku" is spelled out in front of him in no time and instead of opening the locker right away, Shouto stares at it. The name has some kind of nostalgic feeling to it, familiar although completely alien. He opens the small locker with a click, and quickly changes shoes, once Uraraka and Iida are waiting for him to join them as they cheerfully speak of what they think of the trailers for All Might.

"Deku, you like Yagi, right?"

Shouto frowns, remembering Izuku's phone's lock screen. "Yeah. He's my favorite actor."

Uraraka smiles as they begin to walk away. "So, what do you think of all the trailers?"

Multiple conversations hang in the air, surrounding Shouto but not suffocating him. The sunlight shines upon each varnished table, creeping in through the window-like walls of the café. Shouto, Uraraka, and Iida are all sitting at a table in the middle, which has been cutely decorated with a floral cloth, the menu lying upon it. Iida is the first one to take a look, examining every page carefully as Uraraka simply looks around, her mouth agape. Shouto figures she can't exactly afford to come to places like these often.

"It's pretty, isn't it, Deku?"

Shouto blinks and nods. "Yeah." The fans in the ceiling turn gently, refreshing the air. By his side, Iida moves his glasses quickly and passes the menu to Shouto. "Did you decide?"

"Yes! I will have a simple sandwich with freshly squeezed orange juice!"

Shouto hums and eyes the menu himself. The prices are above anything he could have expected, and he really just wants to tell his new friends that they're being robbed by the place. Uraraka's shifting in her chair makes him rethink it. She's sweet, he can tell, and deserves to have a nice afternoon out with her friends to an expensive café. Iida has chosen his order, too, so Shouto would feel like a dick if he insisted on leaving. With that in mind, he goes for what seems to be the cheapest but still delicious-sounding: a small chocolate cake. "I think I got it. Uraraka?" He holds the hardcover menu to her, and she takes it in her hands.

Shouto fishes for Izuku's wallet, finding it in the pocket of his uniform jacket. He rummages through the money swiftly, finding it to be just enough for his own order plus another one. He smiles softly, glad and relieved he can pay for Uraraka's food.

"What are you getting, Deku?"

"The chocolate cake," he replies, putting away his wallet. He looks at her. "It's the cheapest."

She nods and hums. "I think I'll get that, too, then!" Uraraka grins at him and puts the menu down.

Their food is served to them in a flash. It almost confuses Shouto, who is used to the near hour of waiting at the only restaurant they have. The more he eats and talks with Iida and Uraraka, the more everything feels like a dream. Tokyo, a caring parent—a mother, nonetheless—, a café to visit with his friends. It's as if the gods had heard his desperate prayers.

They pay but don't move from their table, simply sit there and talk and talk and talk. Shouto smiles every once in a while, but his replies are still extremely short and almost distant.

He looks outside. There are different sets of people around them now, never less peculiar and unique than the others. The sun outside is setting, his warm orange rays saying goodbye to him from behind the skyscrapers, as the sky slowly becomes a beautiful dark blue sprinkled with silver stars. The sky isn't peaceful like his town's though. This one is vibrant and colorful, filled with neon from the nearby advertisements, the planes that take people to places they've never seen before. The café's indoor lights turn on gently, illuminating the place and its customers with a calming yellowish white light. Tears prick Shouto's eyes.

He gently waves Uraraka goodbye, who was kind enough to walk home with him. He turns the keys gently and pushes open the metal door to the apartment. "I'm home," he says, too loud for Shouto but too quiet for Izuku. He closes the door behind him, kicking the cold night air out of the comfortable, warm house.

"Welcome home, Izuku! Mom made your favorite today."

Shouto frowns a little as he takes off his shoes. He sits down at the small table once he puts his bag back in Izuku's room and changes to something more comfortable. "Katsudon…" he murmurs, the steam of the freshly cooked noodles and meat warming up his face.

"Mhm!" She smiles at him and turns on the TV, switching channels for a bit before settling down on a drama. Shouto blows gently upon the food, then grabs his chopsticks and begins to eat. He wants to cry, and he's not sure if it's because the katsudon tastes so incredibly good or if it's because he hasn't had food made with motherly love in over a decade. Some tears end up spilling, falling into the hot dish. It doesn't stop him, though. He keeps eating and eating, closes his eyes so the dream never ends.

He ends up choking, and so he stops and drinks some lemon soda. He turns to Izuku's mother, who's intently watching the screen as she slurps her own dinner. "Mot— Mom."

She immediately turns to him, a few noodles dangling from her lips. "What's wrong?" she tries to speak through a full mouth. After swallowing, she repeats herself.

"I… was wondering. Do you know what happened between me and Bakugou?"

"Katsuki?"

Shouto blinks. He's confused, but nods.

"Do you not remember, Izuku?"

Shouto attempts to laugh nervously. "Not really. Must have repressed it."

Izuku's mother nods. She thinks a little, and Shouto resumes his dinner. She then begins to explain how they used to be childhood friends. The problem however, was the ambiguity of the term. Bakugou was mean to Izuku more often than not, belittling him and calling him "Deku" as a way to insult him. Izuku's mother admits she always blamed it on Bakugou's "shit mother", especially since he calmed down once he got taken away from her and his father.

Shouto nods, eyes on his empty bowl. "Thank you."

They spend the next twenty minutes or so watching TV, Izuku's mother more focused on the dirty dishes than the over the top love confession. Shouto yawns once the credits begin playing and gets to his feet. He isn't completely comfortable with the western-like table. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

The water stops running and he hears small steps approaching him. A kiss to his cheek stops him in his tracks. "Sleep well, Izuku."

Shouto turns to her as she attends back to her task. There's an overwhelming urge to beg Izuku's mother not to leave him as he sobs and screams. He begins to think that maybe he isn't over his mother's abandonment. He buries this knowledge deep as he quickly changes into a t-shirt that has "Pajama" printed on it in Katakana, and loose pants. He lets himself fall on the bed, something he had always imagined himself doing after a long day, and pulls up Izuku's phone.

He seems to be incredibly trusting, having no pin to unlock his phone from potential nosey strangers. It doesn't really bother Shouto though, since he decides one day of living as him is more than enough to earn access to his phone. A peek into his gallery shows a carefree life, save for some fading bruises here and there in Izuku's cheeks and arms, and for the bandages that switch places every other photo. He seems to be incredibly fond of the peace sign, doing it often in selfies with his friends and his mother. Shouto censors himself when his heart skips a beat as he stares for too long at a picture of Izuku grinning in front of his high school. With that, he taps out, noticing a "Diary" app through the corner of his eye. A small percentage of his mind tells him that those are Izuku's private thoughts, that just because he shares his body (if that is even what is currently happening), looking through them would make Shouto nothing short of a stalker. He brushes it off and opens the app. He's not going to read the entries, he simply wants to add one.

**today was weird . i met your friends, your mom, and your childhood "friend", if you can even call the dick that . your friends and your mom are very kind and nice :) uraraka is the type of girl one of my friends would like & iida is really honest and loyal**

**also your mom's katsudon is beyond incredible . but i wouldn't exactly know what i'm talking about since cold soba is pretty much all i manage to eat .**

**regardless, it was fun i think . we went to a kinda expensive café & i paid for uraraka's order, i hope that's ok with you . **

**uraraka and i walked home together .**

**thanks for today, it was a pretty cool dream, izuku .**

He sighs and puts his phone away, turning off the light as well. In a flash, he remembers "Shouto?" written in deep black ink. He gets on his feet and turns on the desk light, fishing a black sharpie and uncovering it with his teeth. With harsh strokes, he writes down his name on his left palm in small Kanji. He closes his hand and turns off the light once more, heading back to bed. The moonlight creeps into his—Izuku's room, and with the busy cars, far away and below him, as background noise, Shouto falls asleep.


	4. chapter 3

To his surprise, Izuku wakes up in his bedroom once more. He rushes to open the window, and is relieved to be met with a city landscape. His heart still pounds in his chest and, with a sigh, he sits down and puts his hand to it. His dreams lately had been… strange, to say the least. For one, he has a bigger family and a bigger house to fit them all in. Then there's the fact Iida and Uraraka are nowhere to be seen, and that he apparently lives in the country rather than Tokyo itself. But at least they're not plagued by Bakugou chasing him anymore.

He runs his thumb over his burgundy bracelet and looks down absentmindedly, only now realizing the unfamiliar writing on the palm of his hand. "Sh… Shouto?" Izuku frowns. He doesn't know a Shouto, does he? It's a pretty name, sure, but he definitely doesn't know anyone who goes by it. "Maybe it's a friend of Iida's or Uraraka's," he murmurs, finger knuckle to his chin as he thinks. "It's definitely a strange way of writing such a name, if I'm not mistaken that's… No, it _definitely _is the Kanji for "freezing"..." He hums and fishes for his unplugged phone, letting out a whine. He must have forgotten to charge it last night. Izuku unlocks it with a swipe of his thumb and finds himself staring at a cold blue colored diary entry, which only makes everything weirder. His are always green. With a frown, he reads it. "Shouto!"

The door to his bedroom opens and his mother's head peeks in a little. "Izuku? Are you okay?"

He jumps and nods. "Yeah, yeah! I'm okay!" He laughs nervously and waves his hand dismissively. "It's nothing, mom, don't worry."

She smiles gently and sighs. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Izuku." She closes the door on that strange note.

"Better…?"

The class's murmur isn't a bother to him as he writes down every little detail that comes to his mind about the strange dreams that he's been having—if he can even call them that. He vaguely answers Mr. Yamada's questions on what English phrase means what, though his pencil is writing down anything but the English alphabet. As he's writing down "body swap?", the loud ring of the bell echoes throughout the school, startling him and pulling him out of his transe. A loud "Midoriya!" reaches for him from the classroom door.

Izuku looks up as he shoves his notebook and stationary in his big yellow backpack. "Iida, hi!" He's quick to put everything away and walk up to his friend. "The roof, yeah?"

"Yes! I'm glad to see you're doing better than before!" He comments as they walk out of Midoriya's classroom.

"Huh…? You know, my mom said the same thing," Izuku says, frowning again. "Maybe it's some sort of sleep walk that makes me act strange, yet completely aware of the world I'm in somehow… I acted weird around my mom and you, right?"

"Uraraka and Bakugou as well!"

"...Oh, shit," he whispers stopping in his tracks. His whole body begins to shake before he can help himself, his brain going through every terrible option there is as Izuku's heart is filled with nothing but dread. "I really fucked up, huh?" he whispers to Iida, gently biting at his knuckles.

"Well, I wouldn't… not say that…!" Iida opens the door to the roof and holds it out for Izuku, who looks around for a track or sight of Bakugou nearby. "Regardless, Uraraka awaits us as usual, and she wants to thank you personally for yesterday!"

"Thank me…?" Izuku asks absentmindedly, his head still moving from the left to the right. Once he's absolutely sure Bakugou is nowhere to be seen and that he's free of any kind of consequence his idiot self pulled the day before, he follows Iida to their usual lunch spot. As said, Uraraka is there, laying on her back with her head on her bag as she types on her phone, one arm draped over her forehead to blockout the blazing sun. "Uraraka, good afternoon!"

"Deku!" She sits up in a flash. Quickly, she opens her bag and searches for something in it, as Izuku sits down in front of her and next to Iida. He takes out his bento and a plastic bottle filled to the brim with orange soda that he offers Iida. Uraraka interrupts Izuku as he pours some for himself, showing him something that seems extremely valuable. And it is.

"Yagi Toshinori in All Might's action figure?!" Midoriya grabs it with both hands and rocks back and forth excitedly, tears already sprouting in his eyes. "But, but, but it hasn't even come out yet! And… Uraraka, you really shouldn't be doing this!"

"That's where you're wrong!" She grins and puts her index finger to Izuku's nose. "Not only should I do it, I've _done _it!" She laughs and puts away her phone inside her bag, its charms tinkling. "You paid for my food yesterday, so I wanted to repay you," she says with that Uraraka-like smile. "Besides, I didn't actually spend any money on it. I think it came with the wrong eye color, so papa brought it home."

Izuku completely forgets about that small detail, about his strange dreams and the stranger in his body that spends his money, as he holds the figure in his hands. "Uraraka, you're too nice!" He starts sobbing by now, and reluctantly lets go of the precious treasure in his hand to wipe his tears to his arm. His euphoria is short lived as someone snatches the figure from his hand. "Hey—" Izuku's words of retaliation die on his lips as he notices who took the gift from him.

"Aren't you kinda old for this shit, Deku?" Bakugou says with a sneer as he lets the All Might figure fall flat to the concrete floor.

Izuku opens his mouth to say something as he stares down at his fallen hero. Once he turns to look at Bakugou, ready to speak his mind, his words are gone.

"You were lucky yesterday Kirishima was nearby. The fuck were you thinking asking me if you knew me?!"

"What…?"

"Don't play dumb!"

"I'm not," Izuku murmurs, his small stature shaking. "I thought you were done with this, anyway," he says with the one ounce of courage he finds in the sea of fear that swallows his body whole.

"Ah?"

He stands up and takes a deep breath, fueled by that small ember of bravery.

"Why do you keep treating me like shit, if you aren't with your parents anymore?" Izuku's voice is trembling, much like his body. He isn't in a defensive position anymore. His arms, once above his face to protect himself from Bakugou's blows, stand by his side, fists clenched as he looks his quote-on-quote friend directly in his eyes, clouded by anger.

There's silence. It's uncomfortable and loud.

"Midoriya, I don't think—"

"Shut up, shitty four-eyes," Bakugou says through gritted teeth, as he fists Izuku's collar. "You don't know _shit_, Deku. Don't you ever try to fucking reason with me by pretending you know me."

"I do know you! We're friends—"

"No, we're not! I'm not your fucking friend, you good-for-nothing _bastard_."

Izuku opens his mouth as he tries to grasp that now extinguished flame of bravery.

"Bakugou!"

He throws Izuku at the polished floor with unreasonable force. "Stay out of my way," is all he says as he turns around to meet Kirishima.

Izuku puts a trembling hand to his collar as he closes his eyes and tries to breathe. His vision is already blurred with tears and, in a vague and fruitless attempt, he takes deep breaths. It only manages to leave him shaking and choking on his sobs. Iida rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Uraraka gives him his figure back. Izuku clenches his hand around it, his knuckles white against brightly colored vinyl.

"I feel like you should start giving up on him," Uraraka says, her voice gentle.

Izuku shakes his head and wipes his tears. "No. Not even he deserves to be given up on."

"Midoriya, I must confess you're kind to a fault. I understand you see and know Bakugou is going to become a better person, but I don't think you should intervene in his journey to grow."

Izuku takes in a breath and simply stares at the slightly damaged figure. He doesn't reply, not because he doesn't have an answer, but because he knows Iida is going to persist regardless. He knows Iida is right. Of course Izuku should stop trying to help Bakugou become a better person when that growth was done better when they were both separated. But Izuku is still his friend. He wants to believe so at least. Izuku doesn't know what to do if he finds out his only childhood friend has always hated him. He sighs and brings his knees up so he can rest his forehead on them. Izuku doesn't blame Bakugou if he has never liked him, not in the slightest.

"Hey, Deku, do you wanna go to the café again?"

He shakes his head, forehead rubbing against the soft fabric of his uniform pants. "I won't get my allowance in the next couple weeks and I wanna save it for more hang outs with you guys," Izuku says, his voice vaguely hoarse. "Sorry."

Uraraka smiles at him. "It's okay! We can just hang out somewhere else."

"Midterms are coming up, maybe a study group would be the best!" Iida says, arms moving up and down. "Midoriya, if you don't mind, maybe we could go to your place?"

He leans back and wipes his eyes to the back of his hand, nodding with a small smile on his lips. "Of course! I'll just have to call my mom."

Shouto groans as he wakes up, eyes slowly opening. A strange pain jolts through his jaw and lays on the knuckles of his heavy hands. He sits up and stretches, scratching his unkempt hair. Still heavy lidded eyes find unfamiliar handwriting on his hand that reads.

_Your name is pretty! Mine is Izuku _

He blinks at it, his door sliding open.

"Breakfast, Shouto," Touya's voice announces before the door to his bedroom slides again.

"Yeah," he murmurs.

He walks to school with Yaoyorozu, the asphalt beneath his sneakers hot for September. "I left early yesterday, since Tsuyu said she'd be skipping tennis club and you were in the infirmary. She never ended up texting me why you were hurt, though. Do you feel better now?"

Shouto frowns. His jaw still hurts, and his knuckles, albeit now bandaged, still bleed ever so slightly. He opens and closes his right hand. "I think."

Yaoyorozu smiles. It's very gentle, and it reminds him of someone far away from him that feels close to his heart. Shouto looks away, sadness falling upon him like warm water, strangely comforting.

The school seems smaller to him, for some reason. A bigger, more populated school in a larger city flashes in his memory, but he shakes his head so it remains at the back of his head like fog in a November morning.

Yaoyorozu waves at him as she heads for her own classroom, her steps soft on the school's old wooden floor. They echo gently throughout the hallway. Shouto makes his way to Classroom 2-A, head slightly leaned down, his eyes on the floor and on his bright white uwabaki. While the whispering doesn't bother him, the feet shuffling as they move away from him are another story. Usually, people simply talk. They don't care if he hears it, or if he's near them. For some strange reason, that has seemed to change today. He lifts his head and tries to look one of them in the eye, frowning. The girl jumps and holds close to the friend by her side.

"It was _that _look he gave them!"

"Crazy ass…"

Shouto takes a breath and sighs, trying to ignore the murmuring and the dragging of their feet that seems to be getting louder by the second, overwhelming him. He places his hands on the desk, quickly hiding them below, near his books, when he notices they are shaking. The classroom seems to be getting smaller and more cramped.

"Shouto?"

Tsuyu's croaky, hoarse voice makes him jump. His breath catches in his throat and he looks up at her. Her bangs are messy and growing, almost covering her wide brown eyes. Her cute, frog hairpins can barely hold her hair back. "Asui."

"Call me Tsuyu, you know that," she says, pulling her chair to sit close to him.

"Right. Sorry, it's, hum… everyone talking."

"Oh, yeah. You do get overwhelmed pretty easily."

Shouto leans back and moves his gaze to his trembling, bruised hands.

"I see your hands haven't gotten better."

He frowns and looks up at her. "About that… Do you know what happened?"

"Huh?"

"I just know I woke up feeling sore and hurt. I don't remember anything that happened yesterday."

"Those amnesia attacks have been really affecting you, huh, Shouto? ...You got in a fight."

He stares at her with wide eyes. "A _fight_."

"Mhm."

There's silence between them, filled by countless murmurs.

"Asshole thinks he can do whatever he wants just 'cause his dad is the mayor."

"Well," Tsuyu says, heavy and pressed. Her furious gaze passes by Shouto, fixing her dark piercing eyes on the students behind him. "You were only helping me." She looks at him and smiles, genuine and warm.

"What do you mean?"

"I was getting harassed by a couple of idiots," she explains, "and you got angry." She puts her finger to her jaw and pokes her tongue out as she remembers the incident. "You punched one of the students, and got yourself into a fight. I helped you go to the infirmary after. It wasn't too bad, but it was enough that everyone is talking about you like you're some kind of maniac."

Shouto stares at her, the pain in his jaw jolting through his face in a familiar, albeit altogether alien, way. He nods.

"I'm going to be honest, Shouto, while I do appreciate it, I want you to leave it be next time."

"I'm aware. You can take care of yourself just fine."

"Yeah! I don't really blame you, though. You didn't seem like yourself."

The door near the blackboard slides open with a drag, and Mr. Aizawa walks in, his presence silent but undeniable. The classroom is only disturbed by the sound of chairs dragging, conversations falling flat on the polished wooden floor.

"Good morning."

The class echoes his words, muffled by the sound of the chairs once more, and by Shouto's own train of thought. Tsuyu's words can't seem to get out of his mind throughout the day. He wasn't himself. That wasn't the first time he had been told that either, especially lately.

He sits down by his desk in his room, already changed into something more comfortable, his uniform lying down on the floor. The idea of not being himself completely still hovers over his red curls, as he opens his notebook. He frowns and stares at the black messy notes that replaced his usually colorful and neat ones. They're all over the place, most of the characters too hastily written for Shouto to even begin to understand them. They're written horizontally, too, something Shouto never does. The sense of privacy he has regarding his belongings begins to make him panic, faces and names of people who could have possibly done something like this crossing his mind rapidly.

His calloused fingers flip the notebook quickly, almost ripping striped pages. He needs an answer, and he's sure whoever is behind this must have left some kind of clue behind.

The clue isn't a clue, per se, rather the response he wanted: about two pages filled to the brim with chaotic handwriting that talks about his friends at the top of the page and his family at the bottom, complete with slightly crude drawings of them. Shouto recognizes the handwriting. It was the same from before, from that day.

The notes read things like:

**Tsuyu, loves frogs!, tennis and basketball club, very upfront **

**Yaoyorozu, smart!, very kind, low self esteem though :( **

**Touya, big brother, he's very kind but looks very intimidating, is badly burnt (related to his dad?) **

**Natsuo, big brother, loves soccer and practicing volleyball with Shouto, talks shit about their dad a lot **

**Fuyumi, big sister, very responsible, very caring, she gets worried if I don't text her, kinda like my mom! **

He flips the page, curiosity killing the anxiety that clenches his heart in its fist.

On the page on the left there is an extremely detailed, less rough, portrayal of himself—curls, one eye scribbled in to drive home the fact it's differently colored, even his scars were as perfectly drawn. On the right, details about himself.

**Shouto Todoroki, 16, 2-A **

**he's very serious!, doesn't talk a lot it seems, his favorite dish is cold soba! **

**dad is the mayor and a bad person, they hate when he's brought up but Natsuo is okay with telling me things about him **

**mom is away, at a hospital **

**is in the volleyball club, he's the setter, I suck at it though **

The names are scribbled and rewritten a couple of times, and it's clear that whoever wrote it had issues with the Kanji. His name is the largest section in the page, serving as some sort of title. "No…" The realization dawns on him as the sun begins to set behind the large mountains, leaving him surrounded by an eerie orange-blue glow. Fuyumi calls his name, and he responds with a faint "Coming", as he looks at the mirror by the wall. "Izuku Midoriya," he whispers as he admits to himself that they aren't dreams, chills crawling up his spine. "We…"

Izuku stares at the multitude of light blue entries instead of studying, each one of them written in the same motone, as opposed to Izuku's own full of exclamation points. The more he reads, the more he is convinced. "Shouto Todoroki." They _aren't _dreams, they can't be. "We…"

"We've been swapping bodies?!"

The sun rising above the mountains, its rays shining through the trees, blue birds flying across a clear, equally blue sky. The stop lights flashing, as cars speed their way through the big city roads. A cloudy night sky that comforts you like a blanket, a bright one that doesn't let you fall asleep with all its neon advertisements and titles.

Each and every scene they witness leaves their mouths agape, curious for more. It doesn't take them long to understand and realize their situation.

Izuku Midoriya is a boy of Shouto's age that lives in Tokyo, goes to a busy school, hangs out at cafés and the like.

Shouto Todoroki is a boy that lives in a faraway, quiet town, goes to school with all the children that live in it, spends his free time by lonely vending machines.

The swap is irregular, as Izuku hastily writes down in his notebook. Maybe two or three times a week, he writes, and it's never concrete when it might happen, leaving them in a perpetuate state of both anticipation and anxiety. The trigger was the easiest for them to discover: sleep. The cause is still being debated through a note on Izuku's phone they edit whenever they switch.

In both his notebook and his phone, one can read that their memories become extremely blurry whenever they wake up—like a lucid dream, rather than it having had happened. However, the reactions of everyone around them confirms that the swap is very much a reality. And ever since they became aware of their situation, they begin to remember more and more.

Shouto _knows _there is a boy in Tokyo named Izuku. That he has two friends and a loving mother.

Izuku, in turn, _knows _there is a boy living somewhere in the countryside named Shouto. He has nothing to prove his claim, but he's sure it's true. They're friends after all.

They communicate through the note application on their respective phones. The most important of the notes, it being pinned and all, is "RULES". Much like the note discussing their case, this one gets updated often.

**izuku midoriya,**

**don't skip volleyball club .**

**don't interrupt touya if he's on the phone .**

**you can practice volleyball w/ natsuo if you wanna .**

**don't mess up my room too much, change bothers me .**

**let me know if my father says anything about visiting .**

**while on that note, if he visits and you're in my body: Don't Stand Up To Him .**

**read above . it's extremely important . don't do anything near him except eat and nod maybe once or twice . go to my room whenever you're done, say you have homework or something .**

**i'm sure you've noticed my left arm: bandages should be changed once a week, if i haven't done anything stupid . then, daily .**

**i don't know you, but i am not interested in girls . if you tend to be like that, please don't get too embarrassed around my friends or the girls at my school .**

**not nearly as important but yaoyorozu has a crush on someone in the light music club . she might ask you for help with it .**

**For Shouto! :-) Updated **

**Please don't spend too much of my money! It's ok if you wanna buy stuff occasionally though :D**

**I like Uraraka but I think she's not into me, so please don't try to help**

**Please don't be too late to school :( I faved the way on Google Maps for you!**

**VERY IMPORTANT! Don't stand up to Bakugou please and if possible don't go near him at all! If he tries to mess with you, just ignore him, he'll go away. He's like a bee**

**My mom worries a LOT, she's like your sister! Please text her or call her, whichever you like best, if you stay late with Iida and Uraraka**

**Please don't speak with an accent, thank u!**

The rules are simple and basic, but that doesn't stop them from forgetting about them every now and then.

For example, when Izuku forgot to go to practice, too used to leaving school early with his friends, leaving Shouto to deal the next day with the coach reprimanding him. Or when Shouto accidentally, or so he says in a note left behind, hit Bakugou in the face during lunch break, leading to Izuku getting a bandaged hand.

However, it isn't all "**Shouto, I mean it when I say my mom worries, Please call her.** " or " **Izuku . practice setting, it's going to get me benched**". Sometimes, it's calm evenings studying for an upcoming test, Shouto's notes illuminated by the flickering desk lamp covered in stickers. Or chaotic mornings where Izuku has no idea where he left Shouto's shirt, so he runs over the house, his feet stomping on the tatami mats, his steps echoing throughout the first floor.

It's hectic and calm all at once.


	5. chapter 4

The alarm clock, loud and invasive, wakes him up from a deep sleep. The morning sunlight creeping into the bedroom through the shouji sliding doors leading to the garden outside illuminates his body. Izuku opens his eyes and sits up, staring at his futon as he tries his best not to fall asleep again. The second alarm rings and the J-Rock song hits him like a wave of cold water. The house seems strangely quiet, but Izuku doesn't pay much attention as he brushes his teeth and puts on Shouto's uniform. His stomach rumbles, twisting in his belly, and he makes his way to the kitchen. The TV mentions something about a comet, and Izuku listens as he approaches the room.

«The Tiamat comet has now been visible for a few days. It's making its way from East to West, as if following the sun. It'll be fully visible on October 10th.»

He turns the corner and blinks, all of Shouto's siblings sitting by the table. Fuyumi finishes her tea and looks up at him, hiding a smile behind her fist. "Why do you have your uniform on?"

"It's Saturday, dumbass," Touya calls out, smirking. He digs for another rice ball, getting his hand gently slapped by Fuyumi as a reprimand.

"They're for the trip, _dumbass_."

"Trip…?" Izuku asks, and his deeper voice still surprises him.

"To the shrine," Natsuo explains. "Don't you remember? We made sake and the braids."

His eyes widen at the mention of the braids he failed to make multiple times and he nods, slightly overenthusiastically. He catches himself, however, and repeats the nod. "Right."

"...Go get changed, then, Shouto," Fuyumi says, still smiling.

"Right!" Izuku shakes his head and runs back upstairs.

He carries the food bag, bright blue and full of various snacks and a thermos with hot water. Fuyumi, Natsuo and Touya walk in silence, the only sounds surrounding them being nature: the river that flows ever so gently, carrying multi colored dead leaves down its stream; the birds that chirp in the red trees that hide the sun and only let a couple of selected rays illuminate the way; the crackle of the fallen leaves underneath their sneakers; the ones that remain on the trees being touched by the slight breeze. Izuku smiles as he looks around. Shouto really does live a life completely different from his.

"_Fuyumi_," he hears Natsuo whine.

"What is it?"

"I'm hungry, can't we stop for now?"

"...No."

Izuku covers his mouth to laugh, as Touya moves a couple of meters back and throws his arm around his brother. "Oh, the pain of being a middle child."

"Shut _up_, don't mock me, you NEET."

"Better a NEET than a loser."

"And here I thought _Shouto_ was the youngest," Fuyumi says, laughter clear in her voice. Izuku looks over at her, admiring the care with which she carries their offerings.

Izuku lets out a giggle and lets himself look away from the comedic scene. After a bit more walking, Natsuo is granted his snack and they're quiet once more. Through the thick trees, Izuku can see how the sun shines on Lake Itoni beautifully, making it shimmer in all its pale blue wonder. A feeling of loss claws its way out of Izuku's—Shouto's?—chest, from deep within his ribs, and lets itself lay upon his whole body. Tears form in his eyes and Izuku takes a deep breath, remembering a rule written down by Shouto.

**i never let them see me cry . they're dealing with enough .**

The rule hurts his heart, clutching it in its fist. He deeply wishes Shouto could let himself be helped. He respects his rule, though, and wipes his eyes to a trembling hand.

"Shouto," Touya calls

His name doesn't register until a few seconds later. "Yeah?"

"Do you know what '_musubi_' means?"

"Musubi…? No, I don't think so." He picks up his steps so he's closer to Touya and can hear his explanation.

"It used to be the name they gave our god," Fuyumi explains. She sounds calm and peaceful, as if she's remembering a memory from long ago. "But it means many things."

"Oh, like how we tie our threads," Natsuo says just as Touya is opening his mouth.

"Exactly."

Izuku listens with undivided attention, like he had never done so before.

"Connection between people can also mean _musubi_," Touya elaborates. Izuku smiles softly, remembering his friends, both near and far. "It also means flow of time."

"Flow of time," Izuku repeats in a mutter. He should have carried his notebook with him.

"_Musubi_ is all around us," Fuyumi says.

The leaves become less, and the ground turns to dry soil, in which Izuku's sneakers gently sink. Their words and voices echo throughout the forest but don't interrupt the natural sounds. Instead they as if fuse and intertwine, becoming one.

"Our braids symbolize _musubi_ ," she keeps explaining, pointing at the _kumihimo_ holding her ponytail. "They're the art of our god," she says, albeit a little hesitant on the usage of the possessive pronoun. "They represent the flow of time. They intersect and take shape. Twist and intertwine, and sometimes they break and connect again."

Izuku dabs the sweat gathering in his forehead and then grips at his braid, the one he has had for as long as he can remember.

"_ Musubi_ means thread. And time is a thread."

They stop, breathing heavily. Fuyumi turns to her little brother and gives him a smile, reassuring and warm. "Let's take a break, alright?"

"Finally," Natsuo complains, almost breaking the pondering mood. He moves to sit down by the shade of a maple tree, looking down on a green valley decorated by heaps of differently colored flowers.

Izuku sits down by him and puts down the food bag, taking out a packed melon bread and ripping the package open in a second. Touya laughs and pours him some tea with mixed in sugar. Izuku takes it gladly, letting out a muffled "Thanks!"

"You're in a good mood today, huh?" Touya asks, teasing him.

"Eh?" Izuku stares at him and then realizes how un-Shouto-like he's acting. Touya grins and Izuku relaxes, as he realizes he hadn't seen Shouto's brother smile so genuinely. The burns on his face make the muscle movement stiff but still there it is, an undeniable grin. Sometimes Izuku wonders how Touya earned those scars, much like Shouto and Fuyumi earned theirs. He shakes his head gently at the thought. It can't be anything good. It isn't his place in the slightest to think about those things, regardless.

As Izuku drinks, Fuyumi speaks up once more, "That's also _musubi_, y'know?"

"Fucking drinking?!" Touya asks, in awe.

"Yeah!" She pours some for herself and Natsuo, who extends his hand. "You putting anything into your body counts as _musubi_. Water, rice, sake, even tobacco, Touya. Whatever you consume becomes connected to your soul. That's why today is so important."

"The sake will connect us to our god, right?" says Izuku, now done with the tea.

Fuyumi smiles and nods. "Exactly."

Once again on the move, the trees beside them begin to slowly disappear, and they are surrounded by nothing but rocks covered in dark green moss. Lake Itoni is small now, and covered by the thin and translucent white clouds that quickly move through the sky with the breeze, the others big and thick laying by the top of other mounts. They arrived at the summit. Izuku is hit with an urge to cry.

The top of the mountain was as if scooped out by an ice cream spoon, leaving nothing but a gigantic crater covered by soft green that meshes with a marble like white, a deeper green, and a very pale blue from the rivers. In the very center remains the only living thing in the entire depression: a great tree that appeared to be hundreds of years old.

He would never be able to see something like this in Tokyo and because of that, he stares at it for as long as possible, to make sure he remembers it when he's at home.

"Let's go, Shouto," Natsuo urges. Izuku nods and carefully climbs down. They all stop by a small stream, much like the one the Todorokis had at home. Izuku looks down at it, then looks up at the tree, so close yet hundreds of kilometers away.

"This stream is the barrier," Fuyumi says mysteriously.

"You know what's from beyond here, Shouto?" Touya asks, smiling.

Izuku looks up at him and shakes his head.

"The other world." He lets his words sink in Izuku's head and then turns to the river. "Let's go!"

They cross without a problem, Fuyumi more carefully than the others, and reach the tree. Under it, there is a large rock Izuku didn't notice before, for whatever reason. "The god's body," Natsuo tells him as he holds his very own _kuchikamizake_. Fuyumi hands Izuku's Shouto's, with a neatly wrapped braid around it.

"You have to leave half of you with the god, so that he can come to this world," Touya explains. It must be Shouto's first time leaving this here, Izuku figures out.

Half of Shouto, he thinks as he gently holds the bottle. He's holding half of him in his trembling hands. He wonders if he'll ever get to be this close and intimate with Shouto. He climbs down into darkness after everyone and carefully leaves the offering there, wishing for Shouto to be in a better situation very soon.

The walk down is always better and easier to make. The sun is now on its way to lay behind the mountains, and its orange light shines upon their way with a familiarity Izuku doesn't recognize. He's snacking on the very last rice ball, filled with tuna and mayonnaise, and looking into the horizon.

They decide to pause for a little while, just to admire how gorgeous the lake looks at dusk. Izuku sighs and stares. The lake is blue, dark from the night that slowly but surely approaches, and it blends into a gentle but bright orange that is soft on the eyes. The hue looks breathtaking and tears prick his eyes.

Sparrows sing and fly above the village, the smoke reaching the top of the mountains and dissipating. The smell of dinner is approaching them, brought by the refreshing wind. The village itself was already covered by a soft violet, almost blue light.

"You wanna see the comet, right?" Natsuo asks him.

"Comet?" Izuku lets out an "oh" as he remembers the news broadcast of earlier. He looks up at the sky, squinting his eyes and joining Shouto's siblings in the search of the trail. "Comet," he murmurs. Right above Venus, he manages to catch a glimpse of a neon glittering blue.

"Shouto," Fuyumi's soft voice calls him. Izuku turns to her, able to see himself, short and dark haired, in her piercing black eyes. "You're dreaming, aren't you?"

Izuku wakes up in a jolt, covered in sweat that sticks his shirt to his skin and dampens the hair by his temples. He sits up, shaking from end to end. What brings him to a halt isn't the sudden waking up, but rather the tears that stroll down his cheeks, the tears that feel like knives against his soft skin.

With a trembling hand, Izuku puts his fingertip to his lower lid. He stares at the glistening tear. "Why…?"

Crying isn't unusual for Izuku, if anything the boy cries too much. But he had never woken up crying. Tears in his eyes were never a thing in the morning.

His phone vibrates on his bed, snapping him out of it. The screen turns on, revealing the notification of a new message laid upon a picture of Izuku with his friends at a McDonald's. He picks it up as he tries to calm down, his heart still pounding in his ribs. Unlocking it swiftly, the phone opens immediately on the LINE app.

**Can't wait for our date, Deku! ^^ I'm almost there 3**

"Uraraka? Date?! …_Shouto_!"

He lets the phone fall to the mattress, as he covers his blushing face with his arms. Once his embarrassment is almost overcome, he jumps out of bed and puts on the best clothes he can find—a shirt that has "T-Shirt" imprinted on it and some dark blue jeans. He kisses his mother goodbye as she folds their clothes on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. "Have fun, sweetie!"

Izuku simply nods, and shoves his keys in his pocket, phone in hand. His eyes dart over the memo Shouto had left the day before.

**i invited uraraka out on a date . she seemed hesitant at first but i think it was just because i'm awkward . i know you said i shouldn't intervene, but i couldn't just sit around when you two clearly like each other . it's at roppongi, and you should meet her at yotsuya station at 10:30 . have fun, izuku :)**

Since the station is near his apartment, he doesn't exactly have issues arriving there. Still he sprints, his legs almost giving in, calves in pain, his hand hurt from gripping his phone so tightly.

He made it, and is currently looking around for Uraraka in an anxious daze. "Christ, Shouto," he murmurs as he jogs in place nervously. Despite it being a Sunday morning, there's still somewhat of a crowd surrounding the station and walking through the streets that branch from it.

He smooths down his shirt and tries to take deep breaths as he feels his heartbeat in his ears. Why did Shouto have to do this to him? They were supposed to friends. Yes, Izuku likes Uraraka but wasn't a date a bit much?

"Deku!"

He lets out a yelp and stands straight, every muscle in him tense. "Hi!" He can feel his face getting warm.

"Did I make you wait?" she asks, her hands behind her back, a sweet expression on her features that she wears perfectly.

"Yeah! I mean, no! I mean…" He waves his hands around, his face a bright red, before he notices how her outfit is much nicer than his. Shorts, a pink blouse, and white sneakers, a white purse by her side. She's also adorning a couple of hairpins that clip her bangs away from her eyes. Her ever so flushed cheeks are a nice shade of pink that matches the eyeshadow she wears. "You look pretty."

She starts laughing nervously and waves her hand. "Thank you," she says, nodding once, a smile upon her glossed lips. "Let's go, yeah?"

Izuku nods, hand on his neck as he rubs it gently.

The National Art Center is bigger than Izuku could have imagined or pictured from looking at the results found on Google Images. The elevator is cramped, the crowd nearly pressing Izuku's face to the glass without effort. Uraraka covers her mouth to snicker at his posture as he looks from her to the view outside, to the buildings that get smaller and smaller, to the Tokyo Tower staring at him.

Izuku is quiet throughout most of the date, too embarrassed and awkward to say anything. Even as Uraraka points out things outside or asks questions over a snack of omelettes, he remains silent, offering only a smile and a nod. Questions of worry are met with the same replies, as Izuku clutches his phone in his hand.

After a bathroom break, most of which Izuku spends reading old memos left by Shouto, they walk into a photography exhibition called "Homesickness". Izuku isn't exactly interested in it, but he doesn't find it boring either. So he walks through with Uraraka, spending only about a minute looking through each section. The entire exhibition was extremely quiet, and in that silence Izuku found comfort. Uraraka admired the photos closer and more intimately than Izuku. In his opinion, the Japanese countryside look too much alike to be distinguished, unlike Tokyo and all its different neighborhoods. Those all have their own characteristics, making them easily distinct.

When they reach a section with the name "Hida" hanging above their heads, Izuku stops in his tracks. Something other than air fills his lungs. A feeling he cannot pin down.

As they walk through the exhibition, Izuku begins to lose his indifferent posture, much more interested in this one than the others before. He looks at the photos that pull him in, things that look so alien yet so familiar. He _knows_ these places. The lake. The mountains. The various houses. And a bigger one that speaks to him like the other photos hadn't. He feels like he can draw every detail of this village with a blindfold on. Every little centimeter is breathtaking, nostalgic in ways he can't explain. It's almost as if he's been there himself, visiting his relatives. Izuku has never left Tokyo.

"Deku?"

He turns to Uraraka, mouth open and eyes glistening with unfallen tears. He closes his mouth and blinks. He forgot about her amidst all the foggy memories he cannot grasp.

"Deku," she repeats, and there is a smile on her face again, albeit sadder. "You feel like a different person today."

He has heard that sentence many times in the past month. He never thought he'd hear it from Uraraka.

They're on their way to the station, now. The sun is beginning to set, the windows of the countless buildings reflecting that orange, blinding light. Izuku walks behind Uraraka, eyes on the ground as he massages his hand, running his thumb over the imprints his phone had left behind throughout the day. He bites his lip, the guilt over not considering Uraraka's feelings in the slightest an enormous wave in a storm that swallows him whole. "Uhm, if you want, we can go have dinner…" he says, lifting his eyes off his red sneakers and laying them upon the back of her brown hair, painted gold by the arriving sunset.

"Deku," she says, stopping in her tracks, making him stop as well. He lifts his head to look in her warm eyes. She laughs a little. "Let's call it a day." She's smiling, despite everything.

"I…" He closes his mouth and nods, letting out a hum. "Yeah."

She looks at him for a while, seeming to be pondering something. After closing her eyes and frowning, she looks at him. "Listen, Deku… I'm sorry if I'm wrong, but…" She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "You liked me… right?"

Izuku turns red, and almost violently so. "I…!"

"But you like someone else now. ...Don't you?"

He shakes his head rather aggressively, waving his arms around. "No! That's not it at all! I don't like him like that!"

"Oh! Really?" She's grinning by now, not upset in the slightest, laughter on her lips and eyes.

"Yeah! I don't like anyone!" He puts his hands to his cheeks, almost withdrawing on instinct by how hot they feel.

"Are you _sure_?" Uraraka asks once more, drawing nearer.

The image of Shouto's soft, wild burgundy hair flashes in his mind. His eyes too, kind and tired. His heart flutters. Again he lies, "Yeah, I'm sure."

She smiles. "That's okay. Well, thank you for today, Deku. It was fun! See you at school," Uraraka bids her goodbyes, waving.

Izuku doesn't speak, he simply stands there and watches her leave. Izuku wants to move, he does. But his body won't let him, and neither will his mind. So he stands atop that bridge and watches as the sun sets behind buildings, as the night sky draws in, dark and shimmering with stars, as the streetlights turn on and illuminate the roads. He hears as the cars beneath him drive off, sounding almost like a nonexistent river he's spent his childhood nearby, as the planes above him fly without hurry. He closes his eyes and checks his phone, giving into anxiety. After texting his mom a quick "I'll take a bit to come back, sorry!", he stares at the Diary app. Once he's done with hesitation, he opens it. He scrolls down Shouto's memo from the day before and reads.

**by the time your date is over, the comet will be visible :) romantic, i think . wish we could see it together . i hope you enjoy your day, izuku .**

The comet. Izuku looks up and searches for it, finding nothing but twinkling stars and an airplane, stark white against deep black. "What are you talking about?" he mutters, closing his eyes in frustration. He glances down at his phone once more, and opens Shouto's number on his phone app. After a little while of delay, he presses the green phone symbol.

It rings.

Shouto woke up crying. Tears spilled as he looked in the mirror to decide if he should take the winter uniform.

He now sits down with his back against a shoji door, in his volleyball shorts and an already worn out hoodie from his high school. His phone rings, blasting Babymetal's Karate and moving gently as it vibrates on the tatami mat. Shouto answers with a heavy hand.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm okay… Oh, right. The comet is today, right? Are you going with Jirou? … Oh, yeah, sure. No, I'm okay, seriously… Kamui's, okay. See you there." He hangs up and gently holds his phone in his hands, the hard rubber of the cover against soft hands. He puts it to the ground again, and moves his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them. There's a void in his chest that came hand in hand with the tears that morning.

Once he makes it to the store, the streets are already filled with people in their yukatas and most comfortable, yet pretty clothes. The stairs that lead to the central part of the festival are partially lit by lanterns, shining their orange light on the stone. Shouto scratches at his cheek a little, and then shoves his hands in his jeans. He decided on those, and a dark red sweatshirt that had seen better days, the English stamp already half torn off. The breeze hits his nape and he shudders, rolling his shoulders and picking up his pace.

"Have you seen Yagi's new show, Kyouka?" he can hear Tsuyu's voice from nearby.

"Not yet, but I heard it's pretty dope." Yaoyorozu's date has a slightly deep voice, pleasant to the ear. It's soft and harsh to the edges.

He reaches them and takes his hand out of his pocket. "Hey."

"Shouto," Tsuyu greets him, turning her head, her hair falling off her yukata covered shoulder. She puts her finger to her cheek, admiring her friend.

"Your hair!" Yaoyorozu says, quickly covering her mouth with both hands when she realizes how loud she was.

Shouto tries to smile, coming off still shaky and insecure. He runs a hand through his shorter curls. "Does it look that bad?" he jokes.

"I think it looks cool, dude. I'm Jirou, by the way. Kyouka."

He nods and grips the hand Jirou offers him. "Todoroki."

"Oh, you're the—"

Yaoyorozu interrupts her before she can mention the mayor. "She's right, it looks really cool. It's just… surprising." She smiles at him, reassuring.

"I think it fits you, though longer hair fit your face a little bit better," responds Tsuyu.

He nods, unsure of what to say. Jirou speaks for him, "Should we get goin'?"

Yaoyorozu grins and nods, holding Jirou's hand as she gets to her feet. Tsuyu gets up as well and the four of them begin walking towards where the festival is taking place. Tsuyu hands Shouto a cool drink she got at the store, though he refuses.

He feels distant, as if he should be somewhere else. Everything is background noise to him at the moment: strangers in the streets talking about which food to get; Yaoyorozu, Tsuyu and Jirou discussing TV shows he's never heard of; even the gentle sound of crickets and cicadas. Shouto only comes to when he's gently pushed by Tsuyu. "You said you liked stargazing as a kid, right?"

"Yeah." He smiles, soft and almost out of place. "Reminds me of my mom."

"The sky looks perfect for that right now," Yaoyorozu says, smiling.

They stop by a field and Shouto is the first to dive in, stepping on grass that dances by his ankles as crickets jump out of his way. His eyes are set on the sky, dark blue covered by glittering stars and heavy yet weightless clouds that pass by quickly. Shouto's eyes brim with tears as he sees it: comet Tiamat.

It's breathtaking, to say the least. A bright pale blue followed by two great trails of bright white, a minty blue and a soft violet.

"Incredible," Yaoyorozu comments, her voice soft.

"Mom," he whispers, hoping she can see it from her hospital room window, in whatever town she is. As if triggered by Shouto's voice, the comet splits in two. The second coma is much faster, quickly turning red as it makes its way down to Itoni. To Shouto. His eyes widen and his breath catches in his throat.

«_The number you have tried to reach is currently outside the cellular network, or has been turned off d—_»

Izuku hits the bright red upside down phone button. He hits his forehead with the top of his cellphone. "Dumbass," he whispers to himself. "Of course it wouldn't work." He takes a deep breath and wipes away despairing tears. "I'll just… have to tell him about this next time we switch," he mutters to himself, turning around and beginning to slowly walk home, his feet heavy on sturdy metal.

He never steps foot in Itoni as Shouto again.


	6. chapter 5

Izuku carefully positions his pencil over the empty paper sheet as he scribbles away a scenery settled deep in the back of his mind. The pencil strokes vary from soft to strong as he draws away, occasionally looking at reference pictures on his phone from a Google Search regarding Hida. There's a familiarity to that place Izuku can't seem to get rid of, and so he has turned it into a hyperfixation. His desk is hidden by multiple books he got from the nearest library, all of them regarding that countryside village. The wall in front of it, once covered by Toshinori Yagi related posters that he has since moved to the wall by his bed, has drawings of Hida stuck to it, all of them drawn in the last weeks.

During the week, Izuku takes the train to school, pressed against the door amongst all the other people riding it, directed. He attends classes he no longer finds appealing. He talks to his friends, heavy thorns crushing his ribs. He forgets about Bakugou, who has since begun to leave Izuku alone little by little.

On the weekends, he closes himself in his room whenever he can, spending hours and hours drawing, and occasionally studying as well. Every other hour is spent with his mother.

The routine repeats itself again and again. Every morning he wakes up, slightly disappointed he's still in Tokyo. Every afternoon he walks home and draws what he remembers seeing as Shouto: his friends, his family, stray animals, the buildings. And every night, as he closes his heavy eyelids, he whispers a small wish. Despite it, he remains Izuku Midoriya.

He is going out this weekend, he's decided it. He has meant to do so for quite some time now, but only gathered the courage the day a stray cat rubbed its face against his leg. For some reason, it reminded him so deeply of Shouto, he couldn't hold back anymore. He tells Iida and Uraraka about his plans, being met with support and offers to come along. Of course, Izuku accepts. He'd be more than happy to introduce them to Shouto as Shouto.

He'd be more than happy to see Shouto as Shouto.

The weekend would be enough, he's sure of it. He's already told his mother, who packed him food and his clothes, despite Izuku insisting he could do all of it himself. With a kiss to his freckled cheek, she bids her goodbyes and reminds him to call her whenever he's on the train. He nods, and makes his way to the station, where Uraraka is already waiting for him. They talk, and it's nice and it warms Izuku's heart. Despite Shouto, Uraraka is still his best friend. At the next station, they meet with Iida and they all head to their next train.

"So, who are we meeting again?" Uraraka asks as she eats a piece of fried banana.

Izuku hesitates, cheeks growing red as he fumbles with the hem of his jacket. "Well… A friend."

"A friend, _huh_?" she says, grinning. Her eyes give him the impression that she remembers their exchange after their date all too well. "Where did you meet them?"

"Online," he lies.

Iida pushes up his glasses in a swift motion. "Online dating is good to pursue, but should be taken carefully, Midoriya!"

"It's not dating!" He waves his hands around awkwardly. "He's just a friend!"

Iida stares at him, an awkward silence hand in hand with his gaze, then nods once. "Regardless," he says, and Izuku figures out he doesn't believe him either, "we are here for you in case something goes wrong."

"Yeah! I started karate recently, so I can kick his ass if he tries anything!" Uraraka exclaims, holding out her chopsticks as she poses in a fighting stance.

"He won't try anything," Izuku protests, a little too defensive.

"He _could _be a serial killer," Iida ponders as he opens his station store bought bento.

Izuku puts a hand to his mouth and laughs, and so does Uraraka, a little louder. A couple of people look over at them as they cackle and as Iida waves his arms robotically, yelling them to lower their voices.

Things calm down, though. Iida puts on his sound blocking earphones and takes a well deserved nap, and Uraraka turns to her beaten smartphone to play an otome game she had been trying to finish for a couple of weeks now. Izuku smiles at his friends and takes a sip from his water bottle. He turns to the window, the sun vibrant in the pale blue, clear sky. He bites at his bottom lip gently.

His switching with Shouto started and ended abruptly, without a known cause to either of them. To this day, as he sits on the train, he has no idea what it might have been. Izuku opens his phone and looks through his diary app, focusing on the stagnant icy blue notes. Were it not for them and for the vivid memories of going on a date with Uraraka, Izuku would already have convinced himself that he had dreamed up Shouto. But the written entries of "**bakugou was a dick today . i didn't say anything though .**" and "**i hope your test goes well, izuku :) good luck .**" are clear as day. Besides, he didn't recall asking Uraraka out on a date. Shouto was real, he had to be.

He knew he was.

He had felt his heart beat fast as he tried his best to set a ball. He had heard his rather deep, soothing voice as he talked to his family and friends. He had felt the wind in his burgundy curly hair, seen his different colored eyes in the mirror. All of his scars. Shouto was alive and he was real. His soft skin was real. His gentle, albeit weary gaze. His full lips, his short nails. His hands, the very ones Izuku had fiddled with time and time again.

Tears fill his eyes and he wipes them gently.

Shouto is in everything Izuku sees and experiences: the late train rides, his walks home from school as his feet hit the asphalt, the moon shining down on the vibrant streets, the silence in Izuku's room interrupted by gentle shuffling as he turns in his bed. If Shouto isn't real, neither is anything else.

And because he is so real, and so alive, the sudden stop in the switch left Izuku with a bitter taste in his mouth. Surely enough, he is an anxious kid, always concerned regarding something, always murmuring to himself about all the possible outcomes to everything he does. Yet this was new, more alarming. He feels as if something happened to Shouto. Something like an accident, or an illness.

He's sure Shouto is worried about the situation as well. Izuku locks his phone and looks out of the train window once more, watching the bright green grass that covers the fields. His heart pounds in excitement and preoccupation.

"Are you saying you don't know where the town even is?" asks Uraraka, bubble tea in hand.

"Yeah," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. They're sharing chocolate pocky, Izuku sitting across Iida and Uraraka, who question him and don't show sign of stopping any time soon.

"Do you at least know the appearance of the village?" Iida asks, frowning as he bites down on a pocky stick.

"Yeah! It's really pretty, you guys will love it."

"Can't you call him, or something? Message him on LINE!"

"No… For some reason, whenever I try to it just gives me the same 'this number cannot be reached' response," Izuku explains, mocking the automatic voice.

Uraraka snickers but her smile quickly drops and is replaced by a slightly sad expression. "That's ridiculous! You guys should be able to be in contact."

Izuku eyes his phone, lying on his lap. Yeah. They should.

Station after station, they look for maps to help Izuku find his destination. Occasionally getting distracted by things such as the mascot animal, a cute giant thing that moves if you place a coin on the hat below it, or sitting down simply because it is too hot and Izuku's t-shirt is already sticking to his back. Izuku is desperate by now, going as far as using the drawings on his notepad to show locals as he asks for directions, Iida insisting on the people to look closer whenever they say they don't know.

They take buses, look around to search for the scenery Izuku depicted, and occasionally snap some photos. They enter convenience stores, police stations, restaurants, hotels, even bothering farmers done with their work for the day. Izuku lets himself fall on the bus stop bench, sighing loudly. "It's hopeless."

"Don't be so quick to give up, Midoriya!" Iida says, putting a hand to his shoulder. "We came this far and we are not going to quit so easily!"

"Yeah!" Uraraka throws her fist in the air, grinning. "I'm sure we'll find him!"

Iida shakes Izuku's shoulder gently as he nods. "Exactly, exactly. Maybe we should find some place to eat first, though! It's almost half past seven o'clock, after all."

Uraraka's stomach rumbles, as if on cue, and she puts her arm around it. "Agreed."

Izuku nods, and wipes the tears that were beginning to spill. He's now sporting a small smile. He opens Google Maps and begins to search for local restaurants, Iida and Uraraka watching over his shoulder.

"I'll have the Takayama Ramen, please," Iida orders, polite as ever, closing his menu and offering it to their waiter, a tall old lady.

"I'll have it, too, please!"

Izuku stares at the cold soba option. He shakes his head, and asks for something else instead, ignoring the urge to be connected to Shouto in some way. "Katsudon, please."

"Right away." She smiles at them and yells their orders in the direction of the kitchen, and they echo throughout the empty restaurant.

Their food arrives quickly, in big bowls that are still hot to the touch. Shouto would have hated that, Izuku thinks as he says thanks and begins to eat, looking as if he hadn't put food to his mouth in weeks. He drinks half a cup of water and burps into his hand. "You guys think we can get to Tokyo today, still?"

"Are you sure, Deku?" Uraraka asks, almost sad. She takes a big slurp of ramen and gulps it down.

"I'll, I'll check," says Iida, and Izuku is almost surprised by how taken aback he looks as he pulls out his phone from the jacket that rests on the back of his chair.

"I…" Izuku sighs and eats a big portion of his meal. "I'm beginning to feel like I'm not even close to finding him," he says, his hopelessness clear. He reaches for his bag and withdraws his notepad, looking through the drawings one by one; scenery mixed with portraits. The idea was stupid in the first place, he thinks. How in hell was he supposed to find a village solely by messy drawings of its scenery? Traditional houses blending with modern ones. A great lake. It looks like every other rural town.

"Oh, young man, is that a drawing of Itoni?" the old woman says as she pours water from an electric kettle into their glasses. "It's very well drawn. ...Honey, come see this!"

The husband, a strong old man, comes to the restaurant from the kitchen, hooded eyes hidden by a frown. He takes a good look at a specific drawing of the lake, and nods. "Yeah, that's old Itoni, alright. Bring back memories." A hint of a smile shadows the man's lips.

"My husband was born there," she explains.

_Itoni_. "Itoni. That's it!" He grins and stands up. "Itoni Village, right?! It's close to here, isn't it?!"

"Oh… you don't know?" the old man says, looking him in the eye.

"Itoni…"

"Itoni…! It can't be," Uraraka says, putting her hand to her mouth in shock.

Izuku's eyes travel between everyone that surrounds him. "What?"

"Isn't that where the comet…" Iida trails off, phone still in hand.

Two lone sparrows fly through the pale blue sky that gently fades into a bright orange with the sunset, clouds turning from white to violet in color.

In front of them, a fence. Yellow tape that yells at them to not cross. **KEEP OUT**, every sign screams in Izuku's ears. His eyes widen in horror, tears falling down his cheeks and onto the green pasture beneath his bright red sneakers. He puts his hands to his mouth as he lets out a sob. Past all of that, there is Itoni. Or rather what is left of it. A lake, enormous, bigger than the one he remembered lays there, hints of civilization poking out of the water.

"Is this… really the place?" Uraraka asks, her voice soft, careful as to not upset Izuku further.

"It can't be," Iida says, scoffing. "It can't be! Midoriya, you must have made a mistake—"

"No," Izuku says, his voice cracking. He shakes his head, curls bouncing. "No, I didn't. I _didn't_." He turns around, looking around the school campus that he remembers so vividly. "This campus, the high school, the mountains. I remember them all." Itoni High looks beaten up, abandoned years ago, a couple of broken windows here and there. He turns to the Lake again, frantically looking for the Todoroki household.

"Midoriya," Iida calls, holding him by the shoulders. "Listen to me. Don't you remember the catastrophe that destroyed the village, about a year and a half ago? Hundreds died. It was all over the news."

Izuku stares into Iida's eyes. "...Died?" His gaze goes beyond Iida, beyond the school, beyond the streets. Beyond, perhaps, reality and time itself. "Died… a year and a half ago?" His voice is more breath than words. He blinks repeatedly and shakes his head, reaching for his phone. "That's not true, I still have all the notes he left…" Izuku opens his diary app and looks through the notes. In front of his eyes, they change. They glitch. Shouto's name and entries disappear slowly at first, and then all at once, as if an invisible hand was yanking him away from Izuku's grasp. "What…?" His breath catches in his throat.

Izuku sits at one of the tables in the local library, reading intently about the disaster. He, Iida and Uraraka are surrounded by newspapers, books, and whatnot, all about that fateful day. His fingers flip through delicate pages of an old newspaper, details of the incident carefully imprinted in it. He reads them out loud, his voice weak but audible. "Tiamat's Comet, which has an orbital period of 1200 years, last came to Earth a year and a half ago in October," he says. "No one could have predicted the core splitting at that moment."

Iida opens a book depicting more aspects of it, reading aloud as well. He murmurs the beginning of the sentence, since Izuku already read something similar. "A fragment of the comet transformed into a meteor that crashed onto Japan." He flips a page and points at the location circled in red on the map. "Right here. It was 8:42PM when it hit the place where everyone was gathered."

"Itoni Village… Wasn't it during the Fall Festival, too?" Uraraka asks.

"Yeah," Izuku whispers. He remembers. He's not sure _what _he remembers, but he does.

Iida moves to a computer nearby, typing the words "Itoni Comet Disaster" onto Google, and scrolling away. Uraraka decides to put back some books and retrieve new ones. Izuku simply reads the ones at his disposal. He thinks about where he was when this all happened. In the rooftop of his apartment building with his mother, eating popcorn as they watched the comet fly by. He had been powerless. He had been naïve. He had been no one.

He looks through more books, ones about the actual village rather than the tragedy. There's a picture of some high schoolers, all lined up and posing in some way or another. He recognizes two of them: one who's posing down in front, crouched like a frog, her arms like a raptor's, her tongue slightly poking out, hair covered in frog inspired hairpins; the other posing right behind her, leaning in slightly, throwing up a peace sign that contrasts with his neutral expression, his eyes different colors, two scars down by his left eye, hair that reaches his shoulders and is red in color. Izuku runs his fingertips over the boy's face. Cold. A sweatdrop falls onto the page and Izuku realizes just how fast his heart is thumping in his chest.

"Hey," Uraraka says as she settles down a thick black book by Izuku. The cover reads in heavy, golden letters: List of Deceased Persons. The once thin air around Izuku thickens and it gets harder for him to breathe. As he opens the book and flips through the pages, tears fill his eyes. Seeing his name in this document would solidify it for him. His fingers trace names and names, stopping when he sees a familiar one.

**Asui Tsuyu (17)**

"Tsu," he whispers. Iida and Uraraka stand behind him, anxious.

It doesn't take him long to find them. Their names. He gasps, his hands covering his mouth as a sob is ripped out of his chest.

**Todoroki Shouto (17)**

**Todoroki Natsuo (20)**

**Todoroki Touya (23)**

**Todoroki Fuyumi (23)**

"Oh, God," he says, gripping at his hair. He shakes, sobbing silently.

"Is that him…?"

"It can't be, surely, there must be some kind of mistake! This boy… he died a year and a half ago!"

Izuku shakes his head. "Just three weeks ago," he sobs, "he told me… he told me I would be able to see the comet!" Izuku peels his gaze away from the name "Shouto" and begins flipping through the pages again, only to be stopped when Yaoyorozu's name stares at him. Her, too? He goes back to the Todorokis, staring. "He can't be…" He wipes his tears in a futile attempt to stop crying and lifts his head, meeting his sobbing reflection on the dark window across him.

_You're dreaming… _

"I…"

_Aren't you? _

There's a loud dinner going on under their shared room at the local inn, almost pulling Izuku out of his hyperfocus on finding more and more about Itoni, as he flips through books and newspapers once more. Uraraka and Iida are downstairs; they told him what they would be doing but Izuku has forgotten by now. He looks over at his phone, thumb rubbing the corner of the page of a newspaper. He unlocks it and checks his diary app again, just to make sure. To no avail, the app almost as if yells at him with its "NO Entries" notification. Izuku sighs. His heart is heavy in his chest, digging deeper and deeper into his ribs. "It was all a fucking dream… He isn't real, of course not." He lets his head hit the wooden table, letting out a muffled "Ow", as he clenches his phone in his hand. "I recognized the village because of the news… He isn't real, he was just… a ghost…? Something like that… He…" Izuku frowns and lifts his head, looking out of the window. "What was his name?"

The thin door opens, and Uraraka enters in a yukata offered by the inn. "Iida is taking a bath. You should go, too, Deku, after him" she says, putting away some of her things in her backpack.

Izuku's heart settles down a little. "Um, Uraraka… Thank you for being here for me. Despite all the weird shit I've been saying," he says, extremely apologetic, bowing his head.

She laughs a little. "Deku, it's fine, really," she replies, shaking her head. "We're friends, after all." She sits down in front of him and opens a book on the village. The room is silent, but Izuku feels restless. "_Ooh_, Itoni Village made braids— _kumihimo_. They're so pretty…" Izuku drinks more water as she asks, "Isn't your bracelet a _kumihimo_?"

Izuku puts his water bottle down and glances at it. It's red, tangled with white and few hints of blue Izuku hadn't noticed until that day. "I think so… I got it from someone a long while ago. I use it as a charm, you know?" His voice is quiet, and Uraraka can tell he's tired. "...Who gave it to me?"

There's silence, in which Izuku tries to grasp for the answer as it slowly drifts away from his reach.

"Hey, Deku… Why don't you go take a bath?"

"Okay. In a second…" He keeps his eyes on the braid, eyebrows furrowed. He runs his thumb over the tangled threads. The inn is quiet now, the silence being filled by the cicadas' song outside. "Once, some people who make _kumihimo _told me that the strings, um, they represent the flux of time. They twist, they intertwine, they break and they connect again. Like time…" Fall. The smell of fresh water. The singing of birds, the sound of dirt being stepped on. The taste of a store bought melon bread mixed with sweet tea. "It's _musubi_," he whispers, more to himself than to Uraraka, who simply sits and listens to him. The memory of a _shintai _under a big tree uncovers itself from Izuku's mind. "Maybe if I go there…!" He quickly opens the dusted map of Itoni by his side, quickly looking for the _shintai_'s position. It's old, not up to date at all, but even so, Izuku tries to figure his way to the _shintai _using his index finger, and then a pencil. He can hear Uraraka calling to him, but it's far away, muffled by Izuku's concentration. There's still hope, now he knows. The _shintai _was away from the first lake, Izuku knows as much, so maybe it was a little bit north… Not too much. He traces his movements with the pencil, leaving a hardly noticeable line behind. If he had that _sake _, maybe…

_Izuku. _

A soft voice, slightly gravelly and strained. It calls for him rather desperately, as if grabbing its hands in his direction. "Izuku. Izuku." It quivers, as if the person is about to cry in despair. "You don't... remember me?"

Izuku opens his eyes slowly, blinking against the light in his room. The voice is distant now. He lifts his head and rubs his eyes, then looks around. He's in an inn, of course. He fell asleep on the table by the window, while he looked through maps. Behind the closed door that separates him from the room, his friends sleep soundly. Izuku looks at it before looking outside. No bugs are making any noise anymore, and no cars are moving. He can hear the faint sound of birds chirping, that serve as some sort of background noise for the voice in his dream. In the distance, right behind the mountains, the sun begins to rise, draping the mountaintops with a soft golden light.

Izuku yawns and shakes his head, looking at the map he had traced over. He moves to get his backpack and withdraws his sketchbook from it, ripping off a page, and writing a note with the pencil.

**To Iida and Uraraka,**

**Please go back to Tokyo without me. There's still somewhere I have to look. I'm sorry for dragging you along, and thank you for coming.**

**I promise I'll go back as soon as possible.**

**Midoriya**

He looks at it for a bit, deciding that a little compensation was better than none, therefore leaving a five thousand Yen bill under a teacup. He nods.

He's going to find them. That stranger he's never met.


	7. chapter 6

The man who drives him there is kind, although slightly blunt. It reminds him deeply of a girl he once knew. He cannot remember her name for the sake of him. Izuku glances at the hands wrinkled by age who grip and steer the wheel with care, and then turns his gaze at the scenery outside. Despite Izuku's early morning call, the man—the same that worked at the ramen store he and his friends had stopped by—was perfectly okay with making the trip, just like he had dropped him and his friends at the High School, the library, and even the inn. Izuku glances between the map on his legs and the one on this phone, but he spends most of the trip looking outside, watching as New Itoni Lake drowns what was once a village full of life. Telephone poles poke out of the water that reflect the grey clouds, pieces of asphalt and destroyed houses submerged in it. Izuku isn't sure how to feel. He feels everything and nothing at once. Powerless.

"It seems like it'll storm," the man says.

Izuku hums and looks at the sky. Indeed, the clouds above them are heavy, covering the sky in a depressing scene. The car stops and Izuku packs his things, then opens the car door with heavy hands and a heavier heart. "Thank you again, sir." He bows his head.

"That's alright. The mountain isn't too steep but be careful. And if anything happens, don't hesitate to give me a call. I'll come as fast as possible, alright?"

"Yes, sir," he says, nodding.

"Oh, right." The old man reaches for a box underneath his seat and hands it to Izuku, who takes the present with guilty hands. "Take this. Eat it up there, alright, kid?"

Izuku bows again, his eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you very much. I'm very sorry to bother you."

The man shakes his head. "...That drawing of Itoni… It was really good," he says, with a nod, before closing the door and driving off, leaving Izuku behind, bowing. He stands up straight and watches the car disappear between the trees, a sea of dark, lively green. With a nod, he begins to walk.

He walks on a familia, narrow path, his feet stepping on dirt he had touched once upon a dream, looking at trees, and rocks, and a stream that seem both fairly close and fairly distant, some kind of eerie aura to every aspect of nature. A raindrop falls on his sneakers. And then another on the top of his head. And as if the world was but a sink, the rain begins to fill it to the brim. Izuku lets out a gasp at the sudden downpour and covers his curls with his hood, beginning to run for cover, tripping several times. He finds it in a small cave, protected by a rock.

He takes his coat off, leaving himself in a t-shirt and jacket, as he lets it dry by his side. He opens the map he carries and unlocks his phone, opening it on Google Maps that depicts the layout of the mountain. Izuku takes the bento box out of his backpack and unties its cloth, a comforting dark red. He begins to eat, as he notes down with a black marker what he has already walked on the map. Slowly, his body begins regaining heat with the help of the rice balls and chashu. He feels the food's warmth deep in his belly, comforting him like his mother's hugs. Thunder is still clapping in the distance as the downpour shows no signs of stopping. He eyes his bracelet.

Eating was _musubi_, just like the bracelet. Someone had told him so a long, long time ago.

_"They intersect and take shape. Twist and intertwin, and sometimes they break and connect again."_

"_Musubi_ means thread. And time is a thread," Izuku says, finishing it.

Once Izuku is done eating, he packs everything away and puts on his slightly drier coat, zipping it up quickly and putting on his hood. Once again, he ventures himself through the heavy downfall of rain.

As he walks, the trees begin to disappear, leaving room for rocks, greyed by the clouds above, completely covered in dark green moss. The air around him is cold, and he can see his breath as he walks, every step harder on his legs. As he reaches the top, he pulls back his hood in order to see the landscape better. Izuku stops and takes a deep breath, watching in wonder and bewilderment.

It exists.

He's right at the edge of it, of the enormous crater that housed the great tree and the _shintai_ beneath it. That _houses_ the great tree and the _shintai_ beneath it.

It _exists_.

"I wasn't… It wasn't a dream…" The relief in his voice is palpable, as he grins and lets out a victorious yell.

Carefully, he steps down from his place, his steps slow as he walks down the steep slope. The rain has calmed down to a drizzle, and it slides down his warm cheeks, damping his hair and sticking it to his forehead and temples. He makes his way through small, blue-ish clouds, and wet grass that sticks to his sole. He's reaching that stream he remembers, much larger now.

"The other world," Izuku whispers, nostalgia dripping from his every word. He puts his phone in his backpack to make sure it won't get wet, takes a deep breath, and ventures on. The water is heavy and cold, making Izuku's body temperature lower quickly. He shivers, now completely submerged to his chest, but continues. Once out of the river, he shakes his legs in a failed attempt at making his jeans not stick to them. He eventually realizes it's not working, so he keeps working towards the tree and the rock, now closer than ever.

He touches the rock as he makes his way down, slowly taking the flight of stairs to the bottom. It's rather small, and dark, the only light coming from outside. The only sound is Izuku's heavy breathing and drips of water, both echoing throughout the narrow space. Izuku moves to get his phone and turns on the flashlight, as he walks further inside, to a much more cramped part of the _shintai_ . He kneels and bows, tries his best to be respectful. The _sake_ every member of the Todoroki family brought remains there, the clay bottles now covered with hints of moss. He points the flashlight and his finger at each of them. "Brother, sister, brother… mine." He picks up the last one. "It was before the comet… Then the boy I know… he's from a year and a half ago." Izuku rubs part of the moss off with his thumb, cleaning it. "We lived in different times." He sniffs, and puts his phone down, undoing the braid around the bottle. "Half of him…" He removes the cork with a bit of struggle and pours some of the _sake_ into the lid. The smell of alcohol slowly and faintly fills the _shintai_ . " _Musubi_ . If I can go back in time, maybe… I can save him. Please," he whispers, closing his eyes and letting tears fall on sacred ground, "give me one last chance." With that small, gentle prayer, he puts the lid to his lips and drinks. A warmth bigger than he had ever experienced travels down his throat and into his stomach, fills his body from head to toe, as if it had burst. Izuku keeps his eyes closed, hoping. The warmth fades, though, and he finds himself to still be at the _shintai_ when he opens his eyes. He sighs, sad and heavy. He feels dizzy when he stands up, now absolutely defeated. And then his foot slips.

A yelp is stuck in his throat and he falls backwards, his phone illuminating what appears to be the comet, crudely drawn on the shrine wall centuries ago. For some reason, Izuku never stops falling, simply watching as the comet begins to move towards him, too reastically for his taste. It's dark red, and its trail is multicolored with blue, violet, and white, all of it bright and blinding. The cry slips past Izuku's lips as the comet collides with him, as his back hits the ground.

* * *

Izuku is falling once air around him feels too dense to be air, too light to be water. He's drowning and floating at the same time. He isn't falling, he realizes. Nothing around him is moving except for that thread wrapped around his wrist. That moves, it pulls him towards something, someone. His heart pounds in his chest, hard enough to bruise his ribs. Izuku finds himself not crashing onto the ground, but instead witnessing the beginning of a life.

A baby cries. A woman, sweaty and teary-eyed, holds him close, her dark brown curls stuck to her forehead and temples. The newborn, big and healthy, holds her index finger gently. Standing next to them are three children, two boys and a girl. The father seems to be nowhere in sight. "What will you name him, mom?" the oldest boy asks, shoving his burgundy bangs back to take a good look at his new younger brother. The mother smiles. "Shouto."

Izuku's eyes widen but he doesn't do anything, simply continues to play his role of a silent watcher. Before his eyes, the scene changes, and Shouto is older and being distracted by the boy his sister was carrying, as muffled yelling and crying is heard in the distance. Izuku wants to do something, anything. To hold his small hand and get him and his family out of there.

The next memory is dark, poorly lit, Shouto making his way to the kitchen in the dead of the night. "Mom?" The woman is speaking on the phone, but Izuku can't make up words. She seems shaken up and her voice is strained from crying. "Mom…?" Shouto is standing in the middle of the kitchen now, as his mother looks down at him. Her wide eyes are shining with the most pure terror. Izuku doesn't want to believe it when he sees her pick up an empty glass and struck a scared Shouto in the face. He closes his eyes, screwing them shut so he doesn't have to witness anything. Shouto's cries don't help, though. Neither does a familiar voice asking him if he is okay. Or a deep, angry one that does nothing but yell. He realizes it's where Shouto got the scars by his bright blue eye.

"Get out of this fucking house!" the voice that had asked Shouto if he was okay yells, albeit muffled. Izuku slowly opens his eyes to the tall, strong man who must be Shouto's father standing in the doorway. "I've fucking had it with your shit ass! Now, _leave_ . Before I call the goddamn cops on you." He realizes the young adult's face and neck is wrapped with gauze, blood from whatever wounds its covering seeping through. "I'm the _Mayor_ , Touya," the man says, and Izuku notices Shouto flinching and cowering, moving closer to his sister. He can't be older than eleven. "I can walk in as I damn please." "Get _out_," the man repeats, index finger pointing at the street behind the father, voice rough. He scoffs and turns, but not before he gives Shouto a stare that, despite icy, burns holes through him.

With that, Izuku realizes he has been caught in the flow of Shouto's time, of Shouto's life.

He watches as he becomes friends with Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu, as he studies for tests, as he cries silently in his room, pressing his lips into a thin line so his siblings don't hear him, as he has panic attacks in the nearest small room whenever people mention his father, as he becomes part of the volleyball team. As he grows up into the boy Izuku knows. As he begins switching bodies with Izuku.

Tokyo looks completely different through Shouto's eyes, as if Izuku is seeing it on a foreign TV show. It looks so much more beautiful, so much more vibrant and full of life. Izuku smiles as he watches Shouto look around with starry eyes, a soft, genuine smile on his face. His smile drops when he sees Shouto pick up a school worksheet turned over, his poorly written haiku behind it. His eyes widen and his face turns red as Shouto reads it softly in his soothing voice, "Oh, redheaded boy. How the river flows below… I adore you." Shouto smiles again, then shakes his head, hand tightening around that sheet of paper.

Shouto awakens in his room, and Izuku watches with a gentle gaze. "Izuku, I hope you have fun," he mutters and Izuku's heart skips a beat. He puts on his uniform, tying the buttons slowly with a bandaged hand. "They must be there by now…" He looks in the mirror and blinks. His reflection shows the smallest of tears drifting down his cheeks.

Shouto stands in the doorway, a bag in his hand. "I'm going to Tokyo," he tells his oldest brother, who raises his head from lighting a cigarette and blinks in shock. "Tokyo?!" He nods. "I have… to see someone."

Izuku frowns. That was the day he went on that date with Uraraka. Did Shouto go to Tokyo to visit him?

It's the twilight now, and Shouto slowly slides open the door to the living room with heavy hands and a withered body, head hanging low. "Sis… Can I ask you for a favor?" The woman looks up at him. Next thing he knows, Izuku is watching Shouto's curls fall to the living room floor in small waves.

"The comet," Shouto says. Izuku's breath catches in his throat in the worst manner possible as he stretches out his hand and begins yelling his name. "I'll see you there," he answers Yaoyorozu's request. He ignores Izuku's pleas as he puts on some comfortable clothes, ruffling his hair in multiple different directions, the braid that cradles his wrist shaking.

_Shouto!_ He yells, crying, his voice rough and hysterical. _Shouto, you can't stay! Leave before the comet falls!_

Shouto and his friends look up at the comet in a greenfield. Shouto's lips move ever so slightly in a murmur and the comet splits. Too entranced by the beauty before them, none of them move away, not as it splits into smaller meteors, and not when it's closer to them than a plane could ever be.

_Shouto! Shouto, run! Shouto! Shouto! Shouto!_

His cries echo around him. The coma is breathtaking, both in allure and factually. It's bright, vivid blue and it keeps falling, closer and closer and closer. Izuku is no longer screaming his name, simply lets out a yell as despair fills his body.

The comet strikes.


	8. chapter 7

When Izuku opens his eyes, he knows. He knows where he is, he knows _who _he is. He jolts, sitting up, and eyes himself. Slender fingers, bandaged arm, a battered t-shirt for his pajamas. "Shouto…" That voice, gently rough and slightly deep. This blood running through his veins. "Shouto!" All of him is here, and alive, and okay. Izuku begins crying, sobbing his heart out as he wraps his arms around Shouto tightly and rocks himself. He smells of him, a smell Izuku can recognize but not identify.

Shouto.

Shouto.

Shouto.

"Shouto…?"

Drowned in his happiness and relief, Izuku doesn't hear the door sliding open, the gentle sound muffled by his sobs and soft laughter. He turns, seeing Shouto's eldest brother standing in the doorway, concern and worry clear on his face. And for a moment, Izuku decides to ignore the rule Shouto had written, getting up. "_Touya_!" he yells out, still sobbing, moving to hug him. They're the same height, Shouto being a little bit taller, so it's sort of an awkward hug, but Touya doesn't seem to mind as he wraps his arms around his little sibling and holds him close.

"What's up, kid?"

"Missed you," Izuku whispers, sniffing and rubbing his head against Touya's shoulder, wetting his printed t-shirt with salty tears.

"Aw, Shouto, you know you can always talk to me," he says, tightening the hug for a second and then patting his back. Izuku looks Touya in the eye, and he begins to feel bad for the man, now that he's really seen just how terrible their father was. He moves to hug him again. He'll make sure they survive. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Izuku replies with a nod, his voice still weak.

"Alright." Touya ruffles his hair, gives him a half-smile and lets go of him. "Change so you can go to school, okay?"

Izuku nods and, as soon as Touya slides the bedroom door close, he wraps his arms around Shouto's body once more. He wouldn't trade this feeling of nostalgia and familiarity for anything in the world.

He puts on Shouto's uniform silently, smiling as he buttons up his blazer. That long lost feeling of his fingers on the buttons brings him peace. Once again, he repeats: Shouto is alive. He stares at his reflection for a bit longer, running his hand up and down the back of Shouto's head, the sensation of carefully, freshly cut hair foreign to him for quite a few months. In his opinion, Shouto doesn't look too bad. It isn't until he looks down at his reflection that he realizes he's blushing.

«The Tiamat comet is making its way from East to West, as if following the sun,» those familiar words, first heard by him a long time ago, come from the TV that Izuku is watching intently as he eats freshly cooked rice, straight from the cooker. «Tonight, it will hit its peak at around 7:40 PM, which is when it is expected to be at its brightest.»

Izuku swallows the rice and sets the bowl on the table next to him. He frowns and nods. "Tonight. I still have time," he tells himself in a small attempt at keeping that spark of hope alive and burning.

"Morning, Shouto," he hears from behind him. He turns, seeing Fuyumi walk into the living room with a kettle filled with hot tea and a cup on a small tray. Izuku stands up and bows his head. "Oh…" She adjusts her glasses and smiles. "You're not… Shouto, are you?"

Izuku is alarmed and taken aback, and he lifts his hands in defense, waving them around. "What do you mean, sis?! It's me…!"

She laughs, and it's soft and cheerful, and it feels the airy room. "That's okay." She sits down, setting the tray on the table.

Izuku lowers his arms slowly and he begins to fiddle with the hem of Shouto's blazer, eyes cast down. "Did you already know…?"

She shakes her head and begins pouring herself some tea. "The way you've been acting though, it reminded me of some stuff from when I was about your age. I'm guessing you're the same age as Shouto, no?"

"Yeah. I think." Izuku sits down in front of Fuyumi, hands on his legs.

"Well, when I was your age I had some strange dreams. It was like I was living a life completely different from my own. As an entirely different person, too," she explains, taking a sip of her beverage. "I was a girl in a really far away town, I can't remember where exactly."

Izuku's eyes widen and he lets out a small gasp. "It's just like Shouto and I!"

She smiles and nods. Her smile fades, however, and she sets down her cup. "They stopped, though, one day. Just as suddenly as they had started. ...You should enjoy it. A dream is still a dream, after all," she says, a sad and lonely expression shadowing her face. "It'll disappear when you wake up in your own bed."

Izuku looks down at his hands, blinking away tears that well up in his eyes. "Disappear… huh?"

"You know… Natsuo and Touya had the same kind of dreams. I believe Touya's happened a little after mine," she adds. "I think that… mom, did too…"

It's the first time Izuku has heard her mention their mother, and the word is filled with concern and melancholic longing. She puts her hand to her mouth and sobs quietly. Izuku reaches his hand but does not move, unsure of what to do. "Fuyumi…"

"It's okay," she says, through small sobs, her voice slightly strained. She takes a deep breath and wipes her tears to the sleeve of her beige cardigan, her glasses riding up a little. She smiles once more. "She used to tell me all about it when I was little. Shouto wasn't born yet. It was usually at night, whenever our dad went out to take care of stuff related to the town. She would hold me close and talk all about it."

The word "disappear" echoes in Izuku's head but it is quickly overshadowed by an idea that lights up in his mind. "Fuyumi! What if you guys' dreams, they're all a way of stopping what's happening today?!"

She blinks, her eyes still wet. "What's happening today?" She's confused and Izuku curses himself. Of course. She doesn't know.

"I…" He bites his lip and swallows his embarrassment. "Today the comet will fall on Itoni and we're all gonna die."

Izuku runs down to school, feet heavy on hot asphalt as he thinks of Fuyumi's answer. _No one will believe you_. He's such an idiot, she's right. Who would believe him when he's basically threatening all the citizens in Itoni with death? ...Still, he would have to try. There was no way in Hell he would experience having Shouto taken away from him once more. He couldn't, even if that meant looking like a complete dumbass.

"I won't let them die!" he exclaims, picking up his pace.

It's currently lunch break; he can tell by the fact Yaoyorozu is in Shouto and Tsuyu's classroom, classic bento opened before her. He doesn't hesitate as he runs in and slams a hand on the table, jumpscaring them both. He's still catching his breath as Tsuyu lets out a surprised "Shouto".

"Your hair," says Yaoyorozu, gasping a little when she realizes how insensitive she probably sounds.

Izuku nods and drags a chair to sit in, then taking a deep intake of breath. "Did you guys prefer it before?"

"I think long hair better frames your face, but you don't look bad," Tsuyu answers in all honesty, chopsticks still in hand.

He blinks and nods, and suddenly remembers why his lungs are on fire after that jog. "Right! If we don't do anything, by tonight everyone is going to die!"

The classroom's chattering ceases immediately, and at least half of the class looks at Izuku as if he has just said something completely freakish and unbelievable. Okay, he had, but it's besides the point.

Tsuyu grabs his arm and Yaoyorozu follows her as she drags Izuku out of the classroom.

"With all due respect, Shouto, what the actual fuck are you talking about?" says Tsuyu.

Okay, maybe Fuyumi was right. No one will believe him. After all, he's speaking utter fucking nonsense, and now that he's said it out loud twice, Izuku begins to understand that maybe the overall excitement of being Shouto once more had made him fall into false hopes that only the best outcome would happen. He finds himself lost now, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to explain it to his friends.

"Are you actually serious, Todoroki?" Yaoyorozu asks, voice careful as always.

"Yes!" Izuku nods, throwing carefulness out of the nearby window. "Tonight, the Tiamat comet is gonna split and become a meteorite that's gonna collide with Itoni! I can't exactly say where I got all this info, but I promise it's all true!"

"...If that's the case, this is terrible," Yaoyorozu says, putting her hand to her chest.

"Momo, please be rational. Shouto, you're my friend, but I can't simply believe you like this when it's something so serious," Tsuyu confronts him, frowning in concern. "What are your sources?"

Izuku stammers and rubs his neck, embarrassed that he didn't think further. How in hell he's going to convince people of his warning is a mystery to him. He decides to go for the most desperate of measures: withdrawing Shouto's wallet from his pants pocket and handing all the cash in it to Tsuyu. "Look, if you believe me and go along with my plan, you can buy whatever you want with this!"

Tsuyu sighs. "Shouto, buying people's agreement isn't very noble," she says, as outspoken as Izuku remembers her. She shakes her head a little and then offers him a smile. "But I'll do it. You're my friend, even if I don't entirely believe you."

Izuku grins and nods. "Thank you, Tsu!"

"I'll go to the convenience store," Yaoyorozu says with a nod. Izuku smiles at her and she warmly returns the smile. "Tsuyu, you stay with Todoroki, yes?"

"Okay."

"Let's meet up in the unused music room, downstairs!" Izuku says.

"Alright!" Yaoyorozu turns and starts running downstairs, her ponytail jumping up and down behind her. Izuku can tell how excited she is and, frankly, it's kind of cute.

As Yaoyorozu buys them groceries, Izuku and Tsuyu well up in that abandoned room surrounded by multitudes of things people no longer use. They sit on some dusty couch, and consult the map Izuku brought and the laptop Tsuyu got from the library on top of a table they had to clean up with their uniform sleeves. Minutes and minutes pass as the two discuss a possible way to get around five hundred people relocated to a safe zone. Many ideas come up, most of them off the walls and slightly ridiculous, as Izuku mutters and mutters over the subject. His most recent contribution to the conversation was the option of a mass evacuation broadcast, though Tsuyu was quick to cut him down on that. There was no guarantee people would have their TVs or radios on, or even that they would be at home due to the fall festival. "Not to mention all the trouble we'd have to go through to hijack every government building here. Including your father's house."

Out of habit, Izuku feels Shouto's body tense up, and Tsuyu apologizes for mentioning the pathetic excuse of a man in the first place.

"That's okay," he whispers, giving Tsuyu a reassuring smile. It quickly fades and is replaced by a frown as Izuku closes his eyes and sighs at their futile attempts. "This is ridiculous! We'll never get anywhere at this rate, not to mention we have a _literal _time bomb in our hands," he complains.

"That's it!" Tsuyu exclaims, raising a finger. She leans over the laptop and begins typing out 'overlapping frequencies' into a search engine. "We can use this to hijack speakers all over town and give them a bomb threat!"

"A _what_?!" Izuku stares at her, eyes wide, as she looks up at him with her usual frog-like appearance.

"Let Momo arrive and I'll explain everything," she assures him, smiling. Izuku hates to admit it but that girl knows how to be off-putting. Sort of reminds him of Uraraka. He's sure they'd get along pretty well.

As if on cue, the door slides open. "I've returned," Yaoyorozu says and sets down the two grocery bags by Izuku, who searches them up for some food. She sits down on a small round bench by the table, out of breath and holding a plastic covered shortcake.

"I was just telling Shouto about sending a fake bomb warning throughout town," Tsuyu explains, sounding too casual for Izuku's liking, as she opens a bag of potato chips and cracks open a soda can.

Yaoyorozu's hand pauses, the plastic spoon she's holding just barely touching the cake. "A bomb…?" Her voice is small, slightly frightened.

"No need to be so scared, you two," Tsuyu begins. "It's just a water explosive gel. My dad works with that sort of thing and he's taught me how to work with them too, just in case I follow the family's business. That's all there is to it, don't worry."

Izuku puts a hand to his chest and lets out a relieved sigh. He grabs some pocky and begins eating away, sometimes pausing to either help Tsuyu explain their plan or to take a sip out of a Mtn Dew can.

"Hijacking?! Isn't that a bit too far?"

"We have to go far if we want to protect Itoni!" reinforces Izuku. He can feel despair building up inside of him like a storm.

"With the right frequency," says Tsuyu, "it'll be really easy to get access to the village's communication system. That way, we can send out a warning without even leaving the school." She stretches her hand and taps her index finger on the school symbol on the map, surrounded by a red circle done with a marker lying around. "Since it's not in the destruction range of the meteor, people can come here for refuge."

"And who's going to do so?" she asks, almost fearful.

"You," both Izuku and Tsuyu reply.

She chomps on her strawberry and swallows thickly, putting her fingers to her lips. "Me…?" she whispers.

Izuku nods. "Mhm. Your mom broadcasts for the town hall, right? You can ask her for the frequencies!"

"Oh, boy," she says.

"I'll take care of the explosives," says Tsuyu, emitting an almost frog-like sound.

"And I'll talk to the mayor," Izuku says with a determined nod.

"...Will you be okay?" Yaoyorozu asks, suddenly forgetting the role she has been charged of.

Izuku frowns and nods once more. "Yeah. ...We need the town hall to help us evacuate everyone. Since I'm his… his son," he says, his voice weakening and his hands trembling, "I'll convince him."

"Will it really be worth it?" Yaoyorozu says. "I mean, the disaster is mere speculation, I don't think it's worth putting yourself in danger over—"

"It's not really entirely speculation," Tsuyu interrupts her, turning the laptop in Yaoyorozu's direction. "Itoni Lake was formed thanks to a meteorite, 1200 years ago."

Izuku's eyes widen in realization. "That's why…!" The comet in the shrine, that crude drawing, had been an omen. He only realized it now, but it was clear. The comet was avoidable since it was predictable, with a 1200 years of advance nonetheless. That's why everyone in the Todoroki family had strange dreams. They were helping them stop the disaster. Izuku turns to Tsuyu and holds out his open hand, grinning. "Nice find, Tsuyu!"

She smiles and high-fives him triumphantly. They both turn to Yaoyorozu and nod. "Let's do this together!"

Izuku's heart pounds in his chest as he stands outside of Shouto's father's office. A big golden plaque informs him his first name is Enji, something Izuku takes a mental note to forget about. He takes in a deep breath and pulls his uniform sleeve over his hand, opening the door as carefully as he manages. The man sits behind a desk, looking at a newspaper. Izuku opens his mouth but immediately closes it. His presence is scary, terrifying, overwhelming. He knows what this man is capable of doing. His legs tremble and his words get stuck in his throat due to that knowledge. Shouto's arm begins to hurt ever so slightly, his scarring wounds burning.

The last thing he wants is Shouto to be hurt. But then again, Shouto being dead is much worse. So, he takes a step and walks up to the middle of the room. He clears his throat and bows gently, still trembling. He doesn't look the man in the eye, and when he explains his plan and what's happening, he's facing the shadow of a beard in his chin.

"What are you talking about?" his voice sounds exactly like how Izuku remembers it from Shouto's flow of life. It's harsh, and deep, and it cuts through the air like a knife. Izuku flinches without meaning to.

"We should evacuate everyone," he repeats, his voice shaking. "Tonight, the meteor—"

"Shut up, Shouto."

Izuku flinches. He bites his lip and lowers his head, focusing on the clean tiles of the floor. His mind tries to wrap around how someone can utter Shouto's name in such a hateful manner.

"You're telling me, the comet is going to _split _and _disintegrate _the whole village," he says, in a mocking tone, anger seeping through.

"I…"

"I said shut up!"

Izuku flinches again, his breath coming quicker as he panics. "I'm sorry," he mutters.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Izuku doesn't answer, absolutely terrified of what will happen if he accidentally talks back to the man. "Look at me and answer me."

Izuku does so, still averting his eyes from the man's gaze, and shakes his head. "No… sir."

"I'm the mayor, I have a job to do—"

"But, I have evidence!" Izuku quickly sputters. His eyes widen in terror and he covers his mouth, bowing his head once more.

He hears the chair being dragged, that excruciating sound even more irritating to the ear. "You dare just walk in and waste _my time _with this nonsense?!" Izuku tries to control and regulate his breathing. He's close, he can see his suit and his voice is ringing in his ears. "Do I really have to make a call to take my ungrateful son to a hospital? Do you know just how far away those are, Shouto?"

Izuku lowers his hands, still unresponding.

"You're as delusional as your mother," he spits and something in Izuku's brain is triggered, his fear being forgotten as rage boils his blood.

"Don't you fucking dare talk about her like that!" he yells, only regretting it when he sees piercing blue eyes flashing with anger. He isn't sure what happened exactly, all he knows is that he's on the floor now and his left cheek is on fire.

"Get out of my office."

Izuku takes in a deep breath, and gets up, closing the door behind him as tears silently spill. Why had he done that? Shouto was hurt and it was his fault.

Izuku's eyes are glued to the asphalt beneath his heavy feet, tears still spilling occasionally, his hands too weak to wipe them away. Far away, he hears hammers hitting wood. The town is quiet, even more than usual, and it lets the littlest of sounds be audible. The ripples in the lake, the sound of wood clattering ever so slightly as the lanterns are strung up, the laughter of children nearby. Itoni Lake, the one created by a meteorite like the one that would strike, lays unmovable near Izuku. He can't help but admire how beautiful it is, how mocking. Izuku admits defeat then.

"See you at the festival!" a kid says, prompting Izuku to look up. She and her friends don't seem to be older than ten, Izuku thinks. "Bye-bye."

"Let's meet up in front of the Shrine!" one of them says. "Don't be late! See ya!"

"Bye-bye!"

The first girl walks away, and the other two walk in Izuku's direction who, in a desperate attempt to stop the tragedy still, steps in so they can't walk further.

"You can't go there!" Fear overcomes any boundaries as he grips the child by the shoulders and warns her. "Leave the village! Tell your friends!"

The girl stares at him with wide eyes and tries to wiggle out of his grip. "What are you _doing_…?" Izuku can't really blame her for her fear and shock.

"Shouto!" He hears Fuyumi call from behind the children, some books in hand as she quickly makes her way down the small ramp. Natsuo follows her, and Izuku notices he's still in his work uniform.

"Let's go," the other little girl says, holding her friend's wrist and walking away from him.

Natsuo stops before Izuku and shakes him by his weakened arms. "What are you doing? You can't just scare kids like that, Shouto!"

Izuku feels numb, blank, tired. He stares at Natsuo's uniform shirt as he speaks, "If he were here, could Shouto…" His empty gaze moves up to Natsuo's face, twitching in concern. "Could Shouto convince them?"

"Wh—"

"Is it _my _fault? That everything is going wrong?" he vents, looking into Natsuo's bright blue eyes as if they will spell the answers he wants so much.

"Shouto…?"

"Natsuo, Fuyumi," he says urgently, wiping his tears to the sleeve of his blazer, "get Touya and leave the village before night falls."

"Eh?"

Izuku looks Natsuo in the eyes again. "If you guys stay here, you'll die!"

Natsuo's stupid expression hasn't changed, his strong fingers still wrapped around Izuku's arms. He lets out some sort of sigh and tries to smile as he puts his hands to Izuku's face. "What's wrong? What's going on with you, Shouto? You know you can talk to me, buddy," he says, voice a desperate plea. "I know you're quiet but you've been _so _off these last couple months. Not to mention, yesterday! Going to Tokyo without talking to _anyone _except Touya! You didn't even tell him what you were doing there! ...I'm worried. Please, just tell me what's wrong."

Tokyo?

Izuku opens his mouth, his eyes welling up with tears that remain unfallen. Before he can speak, Yaoyorozu's lively voice cries out, "_Todoroki_!" Izuku looks up to find her and Tsuyu riding down in the latter's off road bike. The wheels scrape against the asphalt and the excruciating sound rings uncomfortably in his ears. Both girls set foot on the ground and Yaoyorozu steps off the bike.

"How did the talk with him go?" asks Tsuyu, and Izuku can tell she's concerned for him.

He puts his hand to his cheek .

"Him…?" Fuyumi says, voice strained. "Shouto…"

Natsuo's expression goes from worried to terrified, and he moves Izuku's hand, finding a blooming bruise under it, its slight pink shade beginning to swirl into a deep purple. "No…"

Yaoyorozu puts her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Why would you go see him?" Natsuo's words are sharp but it's clear he means no harm. "Christ, you should have called one of us."

"I had… I had to tell him about the meteor." Izuku sounds deflated, crushed. It changes, quickly. The meteor. The comet displayed on the _shintai_. The one in the summit of the mountain they visited. "Maybe… Could he be there?" he mutters, putting his knuckle to his lips. "I went there to be able to drink his _sake_, to be able to come here, maybe since I woke up in _his _body, maybe… Maybe he woke up in _mine_. The switching is back, of course, that's where he has to be!"

"What?" Natsuo stares at him, confused. "Shouto, what are you talking about?"

Tsuyu doesn't say much other than a half-hearted protest when Izuku gently pushes her off the bike seat.

"I need this, sorry, Tsu! Gotta go somewhere," Izuku says and takes a hold of Tsuyu's bike without another word.

Once she turns to call out to him, Izuku is already pedalling uphill, uncomfortable in the low seat. "What about the plan?!"

"Plan…?"

Izuku turns to them and yells out over all the quietest sounds. "Please, do everything as planned! I'm counting on you guys!"

Shouto's voice echoes throughout the village, empty and quiet, and it vibrates through the thick, vast forest, up to the mountain top. As if after it, Izuku pedals as fast and hard as he can.


	9. chapter 8

Something cold lands on his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. Shouto groans gently and frowns, eyes slowly opening. He blinks and rubs them, sitting up. He's in a dark, freezing place, the cold seeping into his skin and making him shudder. Once his eyes get used to the little light available to them, he takes a look at his surroundings and then at his body. His eyes widen and he lets out a small laugh at the sight of a drenched parka and thick, scarred fingers. "Izuku! I'm Izuku again!" That sense of happiness is enough to warm up his body as he gently wraps his arms around himself. His eyes are watering, but Shouto blames it on how easily Izuku cries. He lets go of himself and starts to crawl out of the small space, eyes squinting and still wet with tears. The setting sun almost blinds him as he steps outside and finds himself to be in the _shintai_. Shouto puts his hand in front of his eyes and he begins walking towards the summit. The sky is clear, with only a couple of clouds gently passing by, the bright blue reflecting on the water at the summit, a trembling picture of a calm scene.

"What the hell were you doing here?" he murmurs, frowning. He pats the wet jeans as if it were any help, but quickly gives up and keeps moving forward, starting to climb the steep slope, wet shoes slipping a little when touching dry rocks and dirt. Shouto tries to remember anything that happened prior despite how cloudy his mind feels, memories hidden and covered by a thick fog.

Then he remembers music. Festival music, nonetheless, soft and gentle, very far away from him. He remembers his short hair, previous flames now burned down to an ember. He remembers his friends in _yukata_.

"Oh, right," he says to no one. It was the Fall Festival, and he went with Yaoyorozu, Tsuyu, and even Yaoyorozu's date, Jirou. He remembers it now. They had fun. The sky had been clear enough to see the stars. Both his friends were surprised at his sudden hairdo change, Tsuyu going as far as telling him longer hair fit his face better. They went walking, and Shouto began thinking about things and people very far away.

For some reason, the memory feels old, as if it were covered in dust in the library of his mind. It was yesterday, though, Shouto knows this.

He remembers seeing the comet with them, watching it split into two. Standing and doing nothing as multiple stars fell and crashed into Earth, as the biggest crawled its way into the village. As...

He arrives at the top, looking down on washed out white rocks to make sure he doesn't fall, and then he looks up. His eyes slowly widen, eyebrows rising and mouth opening in shock. "I… toni..." His voice is choked, muffled by Shouto's awe. "It's gone."

Indeed, what lays before his eyes isn't the village he was born and grew up in. It's a lake, as big as Itoni Lake, with old matter and hints of civilization drowning in its grip. He falls to his knees, his breath quick. He remembers the meteorite now. It collapsing, obliterating everything in its path.

"I… I died… that night," he says, absolutely terrified, his eyes fixed on the double lake.

Izuku pants as he pedals, riding Tsuyu's bike up hills, around curves, through hot asphalt. The sun is minutes from setting and that only makes Izuku's will stronger, the asphalt ending and allowing unstable dirt to begin. "I'm coming," he whispers.

As he thinks about Shouto's life, he wonders where memories are kept. In the brain, maybe? Do fingertips, eyeballs, or even nostrils, hold memories? Does the soul of someone? Their very spirit, their very being?

When Izuku puts on Shouto's uniform, it feels familiar, although he doesn't put on his uniform nearly as often as his own. When Izuku sees a friend, someone Shouto trusts and likes, he feels calm, relieved. When he hears Natsuo or Touya complain about their father, Izuku himself feels scared and angry, although until a little over an hour ago he hadn't met the man. Mind, body, and soul, they're all intertwined, twisted, and connected. They're _musubi_.

If you wanted, could you remember a memory that doesn't entirely belong to you?

"Izuku," he hears a voice, gentle albeit a little rough. "Izuku," it calls him.

It's Shouto's voice, and it's coming from somewhere inside Izuku's very soul. "Izuku." His voice is urgent, a little sharp. It's upset and on the brim of crying.

"You don't… remember me?"

He does. He remembers everything.

Shouto puts a bag around his shoulder and tells Touya he's going to Tokyo. "Tokyo?!" Shouto nods, simply saying, "I have… to see someone. I'll be back by tonight." He takes train after train after train, admiring the scenery and anxiously thinking, "If I show up uninvited… will he get angry? Will he get annoyed?"

The sun is beginning to set, its orange rays illuminating Izuku's face, covered in sweat that sticks Shouto's bangs to his forehead.

"Maybe," he hears Shouto's voice quietly, "he'll be happy."

Shouto walks, takes trains, buses, and walks again, always thinking of Izuku. Soon enough, he arrives in Tokyo, surrounded by buildings bigger and more modern than he had ever witnessed before. His mouth hangs open, in admiration of it all. It looks different from what he remembers viewing as Izuku. He calls Izuku's number, only for a robotic voice to inform him that the number he has dialed cannot be reached. "We won't meet, of course," Shouto says, defeated already. A little hope begins to grow, out of nowhere, watered by love. "What if we do, though…? What should I do? Fuck, what if I'm just bothering him? What if I'm just making all this up?" Izuku smiles a little, as he remembers—he had never pegged Shouto for the anxious type. He walks again, takes another train and yet another bus. He calls Izuku once more, atop a bridge Izuku remembers clearly. "I can't get to him. This was a mistake." He goes through Izuku's Diary app, and shakes his head. "No. One thing is for sure," he says, psyching himself up, as he begins to pick up his pace. "When we see each other, we'll know. We'll know because… I was the one within you, and you were the one within me." He massages his feet, buys water at a local café, drinks it all up within a minute. He rests at a train station, the sun already setting in Tokyo skies. Its light is dim and low, and he watches it idly. In the distance, he hears a muffled announcement, and within seconds, a train is arriving. Shouto doesn't move, simply watches it with a tired gaze. Suddenly, he jolts and gasps. He saw him. He runs alongside the train, jogging a little in place as he waits for the passengers to leave and for his turn to get in. He walks through, squeezing between feet and legs and arms and people, until he's close. Those dark curls, the freckles dusted upon his brown skin, the scarred fingers flipping through small notes on English class. The train goes quiet, and if it doesn't, Shouto is just unable to hear and see anyone besides the boy in front of him. His face turns light red as he opens his mouth.

Tsuyu's bike bumps against a tree root and slides out of control, sending Izuku falling flat against the dirt, leaves sticking to his cheek. The bike itself crashes onto the ground, about three meters down from where he lies. Izuku gets up to his feet, cleans his face, and rolls up the sleeves of Shouto's uniform, the bruises not enough to hold him back. He takes in a breath and begins running towards the summit of the mountain, every now and then wiping the sweat off his brow. "A year ago," he gasps out, his tongue dry. A year ago, before he knew Shouto… He frowns, trying to focus on the memories that begin to take shape.

"Izuku. Izuku. Izuku." Shouto isn't exactly calling him as much as he's repeating his name silently to himself. He begins to think of a proper approach that isn't standing in front of Izuku without saying a word, hoping he'll somehow notice him. He bites at his lower lip. He takes in a breath, short but deep, and says it louder, "Izuku."

The boy in front of him, in that uniform Shouto and Izuku know so well, looks up at him, revealing sparkling green eyes. He blinks at him, lips slightly apart.

Shouto is blushing and his heart is pounding in his chest, faster than he's used to. "It's me," he says, smiling a little. His soft smile quickly becomes awkward as Izuku doesn't reply and simply looks at him confused. "You don't… remember me?" The sadness in his voice. That despair that tugs at his vocal chords.

Izuku smiles apologetically. "Sorry… Do I know you?"

Shouto's smile disappears entirely. Panic overtakes him and he shakes his head, casting his gaze down at his dirty sneakers. "Sorry," he replies, curt and crass. "I must have mistaken you for someone else."

The train does a slight turn and Shouto bumps against Izuku, who apologizes and smiles at him. Shouto looks away once more, his entire face burning, his eyes stinging with unfallen tears, that pain and embarrassment settled deep in the pit of his stomach. His smile. His freckles. The bruises on his cheek. It's Izuku, he knows it. Then why…?

The announcer says over the speakers the next station is Yotsuya, and Izuku hears Shouto sigh as he turns, taking one last look at him. The doors open and passengers among passengers begin to leave, Shouto one of them. As Izuku watches him go, dark red hair against a sea of black, an urge consumes him. "Wait! Your name…?!"

Shouto stops, eyes widening, and he turns around. He undoes his _kumihimo_, the one he always carries around his right wrist, and he casts it in Izuku's direction. "Shouto!" he calls out, as people push him away, grumbling. "My name's Shouto!"

Izuku catches the braid in his bandaged hand and watches the boy walk away.

He lets out a sob as he keeps running, stumbling every now and then, out of breath, not that it would stop him from searching. "A year ago!" he yells out to the sky. "We met a year ago!" He's grinning, tears spilling and falling. "You went to see me!" The sun is closer to setting now, mocking Izuku as it reminds him that his time to save everyone is decreasing every second. Its orange rays paint the clouds pink and illuminate Izuku's path to Shouto. His chest tightens. All this time, that memory had been simply a strange encounter he had told his mother about. He had since stored it in the back of his brain. The sky is a hue of purple, blue, and orange, stars already twinkling. The trees around him begin to disappear, rocks and moss replacing them. He's here. He's at the summit. He opens his mouth. The chill mountain air penetrates his lungs and he lets it out in a yell, "_Shouto_!"

Shouto hears a voice, far away in the distance. It's soft, despite it screaming, and it's so, so familiar. "Izuku? ...Izuku!" He gets up to his feet and begins walking, searching desperately.

Shouto is here, Izuku notes, beginning to tear up again. "Shouto!" He rolls down his sleeves, his arm hair standing from the cold air and raw excitement, and begins running. "Shouto! You're here, right?!"

Shouto yelled at the sky, in hopes it would help Izuku hear him better, "Izuku! Where are you?!" He keeps running.

"Shouto, where are you?!" Izuku begins to cry again, on the brink of breaking down and giving up. He's here, he knows that. Yet, he isn't. He's so close, but so far away. In the same place, a year and a half apart. "Shouto!"

They run towards each other, disregarding their separation by time itself. As the sun sets behind them, their lungs are filled with the mountain air, their voices turning hoarse from yelling, their faces damp with sweat. Suddenly, a jolt crawls down their spines, and they both turn in expectation. There's a warmth in front of them that does not belong in this place.

Shouto reaches out a trembling hand. "Izuku…?" It touches nothing.

Izuku holds out his hand. "Shouto." It touches nothing.

Izuku turns around to watch the sunset in defeat. He was never going to meet Shouto, it was all some kind of delusional lie he told himself to make himself feel better. Deep down he'd always known. He begins crying, watching as the sun disappears behind the mountain leaving the sky a violet shade of blue.

_Tasokare_. _Oumagatoki_.

"Dusk," he says, and he hears a deeper voice repeating it, right by his side.

He turns, fearful, his cheeks wet with tears. He sees different colored eyes, his bright blue unevenly scarred below, he sees short and wild burgundy hair, he sees full lips and soft skin.

He turns, heart pounding in his chest, vision blurred. He sees bright green eyes and chubby cheeks, he sees lips that pull him in and black curly locks, he sees skin dusted with countless freckles and scars scattered all over.

"Shouto."

"Izuku."


	10. cahpter 9

Shouto all but stares, his eyes brimming with unfallen tears. He begins to reach for him slowly with a trembling hand. Izuku gets ahead of him, letting out an excited yell and running to hold him tight in his arms. Shouto lets out a choked gasp under Izuku's strong hug. He puts his face against Shouto's chest and sobs, arms seconds away from crushing Shouto's ribs. He doesn't mind. "Shouto! Shouto," he says, again and again, his name making up all of Izuku's vocabulary.

Shouto is confused, unsure of what to do. He feels everything at once, all of his emotions cancelling each other out.

Finally, he finds it in himself to speak. "Izuku… Izuku Midoriya," he says as Izuku begins to let him go slowly, arms still wrapped around his chest. He nods and grins, and Shouto blinks, tears slicing their way down his cheeks like knives, warm and sharp. He gently puts a hand to Izuku's cheek. He's so much shorter than him, he notices with a small smile. "Why are you here?"

"I came to see you," Izuku says, still crying, smiling at him. He lets out a laugh. "That was hard, you live really far away!"

Shouto laughs too, still playing with his hair. "Izuku," is all he says, still astonished.

"Yeah, it's me. It's me, Shouto. I'm here and I remember. I remember everything," he says, grinning at him. Shouto takes in a deep breath, not letting himself cry any more, as he brushes strands of Izuku's soft hair.

"How," he starts but realizes how strained his voice actually is. He clears his throat and wipes his eyes, seeing Izuku much more clearly. He's breathtaking. "How did you manage to get here?"

"I drank your _kuchikamisake_," he says innocently.

"You what…?" Shouto is petrified, his fingers freezing in Izuku's hair.

"Yeah."

Shouto blinks. "That's disgusting, do you know where that was?"

Izuku's cheek turn a bright pink and he lets go of Shouto, waving his arms around awkwardly. "I'm so sorry! Is it really that weird?!" He puts his hands to his face, embarrassed. "Oh, god, I'm really sorry, Shouto, I didn't mean—"

Shouto puts his hand to his mouth and chuckles. "Cute," he says, shaking his head. "It's okay." He smiles at him, teeth visible, and Izuku slowly puts down his arms, still red in the face. Shouto laughs softly, and he realizes he hadn't felt that light and free in a long, long time. He steps in closer and points at Izuku's wrist, at the deep red and striking white braid that cradles it. "That…"

Izuku lets out an "oh!" and begins untying it from his wrist. "I think that's yours," he says with a gentle smile. It's quickly replaced with a curious look, the colors of the sunset reflecting in his eyes. "Why did you go see me before I knew you? Of course I wouldn't recognize you, Shouto." In that sentence, Shouto doesn't hear anger or ridicule. He hears teasing and the butterflies in his stomach. "Here," he says, placing the _kumihimo _against Shouto's open palm with the utmost care, as if he were afraid the accessory would break should it be pressed against too hard. "I've kept it for a year and a half. It's your turn."

Shouto nods and wraps it around his right wrist, sliding the tips under the bracelet. He looks up at Izuku, taking in how astonishing he looks. He has the urge to count all the freckles on his cheeks, to press his lips against them gently, to hold his hand in his. He runs a hand over his shorter hair. "Do you like it?"

"Your haircut?" Izuku asks, and it's so soft and gentle, Shouto just might cry.

"...Yeah," he murmurs with a small nod.

Izuku grins. "It's really cool! It makes you look all tough," he says with a laugh, putting up his arms in a pose.

Shouto laughs, shaking his head once more. Izuku joins him, and their laughter fills the mountain air, echoing throughout time and space. Shouto makes sure he'll never forget how sweet a sound Izuku's laugh is, storing it in his memory. He stops laughing little by little, smiling at his friend, who's rubbing his neck, and then looking at him with that grin on his lips. Shouto's smile drops as Izuku looks at the sky. He bites his lip. "Izuku," he calls, his voice but a whisper that is quickly taken away by the wind.

"There's something you still have to do," Izuku interrupts him, looking serious as ever, and Shouto's confession dies on his lips. In Izuku's words he hears the sadness of waiting to stay a little longer. "Listen to me." With that, he explains the plan to Shouto like he and Tsuyu had to Yaoyorozu.

Shouto looks up to the sky, watching as the comet draws near, and his heart begins to race again in fear and anxiety. He remembered it all: the meteorite falling and destroying the village, his friends' gasps, his own surprise when he just disappeared. When he died. "I…"

Izuku puts his hands to his face and turns his head so they're looking eye to eye. His expression is sweet and comforting. "It'll be okay. Everything will be okay." He's tearing up despite himself and Shouto puts his hand over Izuku's kind ones that warm his cold skin. "You still have time," he says, choked up.

"Izuku. ...I'll do my best," he assures him with a nod. Izuku nods and withdraws his hands so he can wipe his tears to his parka. Shouto looks over the horizon once more, noticing the sky becoming darker and more blue by the second. "It's almost over… the dusk…"

Izuku lets out a small gasp and Shouto turns to him, confused by whatever could have provoked such a reaction. "Here," Izuku says, holding a marker, the same one he had used on the map. He uncovers it and gently takes hold of Shouto's hand, whose cheeks redden against his will. "So we don't forget when we wake up," he explains, writing down on the palm of Shouto's hand, the tip of the marker tickling sensitive skin, leaving round, black characters behind. He looks up at Shouto and grins, tears welling up in his eyes again. "We can write our names!"

Shouto is so lost in Izuku's existence he almost forgets to take a hold of the marker himself. He opens Izuku's palm, cherishing every inch of skin his fingertips brush against, knowing he most likely won't ever get to touch or see him again. He looks up at Izuku, smiles softly, and looks down, drawing a line as he begins to write.

The marker drops.

The mountaintop and its surroundings are a dark, deep blue.

It's over.

Izuku lets out a yelp, a sob being ripped from his throat. He looks around, not daring to believe his eyes. Where had Shouto gone? Where was he? "Shouto!" He looks down at his hand. There's only a line, thick at first and then thinning out, the beginning of a word that will always be incomplete. He cries as he touches his hand, sobbing as he realizes he won't ever see him again. He frowns and shakes his head violently, then raises his head up to the sky and says, "I'll find you! No matter where in the world you are, I'll meet you again!" His high-pitched voice echoes throughout the many mountains, coming back to him. He looks up at the stars. "Your name is Shouto. Your name… is Shouto. I'll remember! Shouto! Shouto! Shouto! Your name is Shouto!" He grins as he yells once more, "Your name…!" It fades, his lips dropping. "Your name…" It's on the tip of his tongue, yet he can't remember it for the life of him. He grabs a hold of the marker and moves it to his palm, trying to finish the Hiragana that boy had started. "Your… name…" His hand shakes. The marker refuses to move, refuses to help him. Tears fall to the ground. "...Who are you?"

The marker falls, hitting the rocks next to Izuku's tears. Izuku gets up to his feet, holding his left hand close to him. "Why am I here?" He tries to dig for any memory, all of them hazy and confusing. "For him! I came here to meet him. To save him. I want him to live!" He runs his hands through his wild curls. "Who was it? Who did I come here for?" Groaning, he looks up at the sky, eyes focused on the moon that mocks him for being so pathetic. "Someone… important." Everything is fading away. His memories of him slip through his fingers like thin sand, only those feelings he had no one to direct them to remaining behind, as he cried and cried and cried. "Someone I can't and don't want to forget!" Izuku puts his hands to his cheeks, sobbing. "Who…? Who are you? Who?" He feels nothing but melancholic longing and loneliness, ugly things that dig their claws into his back. "Your name…?!" He yells at the sky between sobs that are pulled out from deep within his fragile ribs by cold, rigid hands.

And his question, desperate and idiotic, echoes throughout the mountains, coming back to him to ridicule him in his most vulnerable time.

With time, it falls into New Lake Itoni and drowns.

Shouto runs through the forest, speeding too much for his liking on his way down to meet Tsuyu. Tree branches scratch his cheeks, rip his blazer, and he almost trips multiple times due to his vision blurring. Izuku's memory is still bright in his mind, though, and that is enough to keep him running as his stomach begins to hurt. His soft hands so gentle on Shouto's skin, something he hates to admit he isn't used to at all. Izuku was maybe the first person to actually touch him in a long time that didn't make him flinch or upset. Izuku.

Izuku. Izuku. Izuku.

_I'll remember_, he thinks. _It'll be okay, I'll remember. I won't ever forget. _

Izuku. Izuku.

"Your name is Izuku!" he yells out at the comet, pushing his anxiety and fear away, sobbing and gasping for air.

He puts his hands to his knees, catching his breath in front of the electric substation, guarded by a big fence made out of strong, shiny metal. He feels as if he's just played about five volleyball matches all by himself. Shouto hears the faint rumbling of a motorcycle engine and turns around, his eyes instinctively narrowing to shield themselves from the strong headlight.

"Shouto!" He hears Tsuyu call over the engine sound. She comes to a stop and takes off her helmet. "Where were you?"

Shouto shakes his head and takes off his blazer, draping it over the seat of Tsuyu's motorcycle. "I'll explain it later," he says, knowing that he won't ever speak of it again to anyone but the diary he plans on still keeping. "Hum, he apologized for breaking your bike."

"My bike— Wait, who did?"

"Me," he corrects himself, as Tsuyu grabs the bag full of the tools they'll need. She doesn't question him. He follows her to the gate as she begins to work.

She looks over at him and puts her gloved fingertip to her chin. "Are you sure that thing is gonna fall?"

Shouto nods. "I saw it. I promise, it'll fall."

Tsuyu holds up her bolt cutters to the lock's chains as she gives him a grin, mischievous in ways Shouto didn't know she could be. "In that case, we have no choice." With that, the bolt cutters cut through the rusty metal, giving them full access to the myriad of electric devices the substation was made of. "We're criminals now, Shouto," she says.

Shouto tries to not make a terrible joke about his daddy issues, failing. "I've always been one in my father's eyes," he says with a shrug and a smirk tugging at his lips, and opening the gates.

Shouto holds Tsuyu close as they drive into the night, on their way to the festival, holding up his phone to Tsuyu's ear. "When the power goes out," she explains, her voice loud due to the wind, "the school's generator should start working. When that happens, you can start using the broadcasting system!" She nods, letting Shouto know she's done. He puts his phone to his ear.

"Yaoyorozu, we're counting on you."

From her side of the line comes a whimper and she sounds as if she's about to cry.

"Do you feel sick?" he asks, genuinely concerned.

«No, no, Todoroki,» she says. «I'm just… Do I really have to do this?» Her voice screams fear and stress. Shouto doesn't exactly blame her, though he is confused. In front of him and Tsuyu, across the lake, he can see their destination, filled by people and bright lights.

"It'll be fine. Please, Yaoyorozu. When you can, start broadcasting, and make sure you repeat it as many times as possible."

There's silence from the other line, and Shouto can only hear faint sniffles before a determined hum. «Okay! So be it.» She hangs up the phone, and Tsuyu lets out a content sound similar to a frog's ribbit. Shouto places it in his pocket and looks back.

"You think it's gonna take long?"

"No idea!" she admits with a shrug. Shouto takes in a deep breath and an explosion is heard not too far away. Tsuyu stops the motorcycle on its tracks. The explosion came from the substation, that stands on their left, a couple of kilometers away. Shouto's mouth opens in shock. It happened. They watch the scene, explosion after explosion engulfing it in flames, sending multiple debris flying in different directions. "Well, fuck," Tsuyu says.

The lights begin turning off one by one, like domino pieces falling, creating a chain of darkness as the village is illuminated by nothing but the moon, the stars, and that damned comet.

"Let's go," Shouto says, eyes on the star that is minutes from falling and crashing.

"Mhm!" They sit back down, and Tsuyu turns the throttle, that rumbling of the engine filling the air once more.

The sirens begin going off, blaring and deafening. They're ominous and, frankly, quiet anxiety-inducing, enveloping the village in their screams. Shouto bites his lip and closes his eyes. _Please_.

As they begin to get closer and closer to the shrine, a clear voice is heard, muffled only by slight static. Yaoyorozu. Over the wind, Shouto can hear her composed voice speaking through the speakers scattered everywhere, so calm no one could have guessed she was seconds away from a breakdown not over a minute ago.

«This is Itoni's Town Hall,» she speaks. «There has been an explosion at the Itoni Electric Substation. There is a danger of more explosions as well as wildfire. We ask the people who live in the following districts to immediately evacuate to Itoni High School: Kadoiri, Sakagami, Miyamori, Oyazawa…» The list goes on but by then is Shouto is no longer paying attention.

"Let's go, Shouto," Tsuyu says, tilting her motorcycle as they reach the wooden stairs that lead to the shrine. They stop and she lets her motorcycle drop on the asphalt, running down the stairs. Shouto follows her, occasionally eyeing the comet. They run through the crowd, yelling and warning everyone.

"Please, run away! There's a fire in the forest!"

"Fire in the mountains, it's dangerous here," Shouto warns, trying to raise his voice the most he can.

"Is there really a fire?"

"Shit, we need to leave. Come on, Denki."

"Do we have to _walk _to the high school, mom?"

A hint of a relieved smile brushes Shouto's lips. Their plan seems to be working, people are getting up to their feet, walking away as they prepare to evacuate. However, it begins to become clear to him that it isn't as easy as it seems. It never is. More people choose to stay next to food carts eating and chatting than to pay them any mind as they yell "Run away!", "It's dangerous!". Shouto feels like a pathetic idiot.

"This way we'll never be able to make it, Shouto," Tsuyu tells him, sadness and worry clear in her voice.

"I know," he murmurs, angry with himself. He'd know what to do… His friend… What was his name again? Shouto gasps gently as tears well up in his eyes. "No…"

"Shouto? What's wrong?"

He looks her in her large eyes, not bothering to wipe away his tears. "I… can't remember his name."

"Shouto, you know I say what's on my mind," she prefaces. "That doesn't matter right now. Look around you! We can't evacuate everyone by ourselves, and no matter how much we're trying to fool ourselves Momo's warning isn't doing much good! ...I'm sorry I have to ask you this but please—"

"Tsuyu."

"Please convince your father!" she says.

Shouto stares at her, swallows his anger at the mere thought of the bastard. He curses under his breath when he sees that Tsuyu is crying as well. Of course she is, she knows she's about to die. She doesn't want to die, who would? For his friends. He's doing this for his friends, and for that boy. That stranger he met at dusk. "Fine. I'll talk to that fucker." He rubs his arms over his eyes and takes in a deep breath. "Please, keep trying to convince them to run away."

She nods, smiling despite herself. "Good luck."

"Thanks." He turns around and begins running, shoving people out of his way as he prepares to do the unthinkable. He passes people, family friends, men and women who know his father, who know his sister and her twin, who are in Natsuo's volleyball team. Who call out to him in a confused voice. He ignores them all. He's dead set on a goal. Convincing his monster of a father to try something called mercy.

In the distance, he can still hear Yaoyorozu speak, repeating her announcement like he had asked her. It's muffled by an explosion, one that was not planned and that he can only assume is one of the many fragments crashing into Earth.

«I repeat: We ask the people who live in the following districts to immediately evacuate to Itoni High—» Shouto hears a gasp and stops in his tracks, frowning in the direction of the nearest speaker. «What are you doing?! Turn that off!» A voice completely different from Yaoyorozu's is immediately followed by a click and silence.

"Yaoyorozu! ...Shit." He shakes his head, cursing himself for not being fast enough, and keeps on running. His legs begin to sting in pain.

A deeper, much more professional sounding voice takes over the speakers. «This is Itoni's Town Hall. We're investigating the incident. We ask everyone to remain calm and stay where they are.»

"Fucking idiots," Shouto mutters under his breath as he runs, his breath being knocked out of him with every step. He takes on multiple shortcuts and through the sounds of bugs, he hears multiple voices discussing the comet; the radio, TV, people right there in Itoni. All saying the same: It's really splitting. Panic enters his body in a way that's almost too familiar to him. Something he despises with his entire being. From the corner of his eye he can see the red tip of the meteor that prepares to destroy the village and its inhabitants.

He begins to think about how he knows about the plan in the first place. A boy had told him. He remembers as much. But who is he? Who?

"Who are you?" Shouto gasps as he travels down a steep path of dirt. "Someone… someone important. Someone I can't and don't want to forget," he whispers, reaching Itoni Lake, his pace much slower than ever before. _Who? Who are you? _"What's your name?!" he whimpers. He looks up at the sky, worried, tired eyes focused on that small meteor that threatens his life. So distracted, he doesn't notice a crack on the asphalt. And so, he falls. And he rolls over and over, marking every inch of his exposed skin with new bruises, scratches and cuts. His cheek bleeds as he lies down on his side, pain spreading over his entire body, piercing his flesh. He hasn't felt like that in quite a while. In some strange, sickening way, there's nostalgia. His head is spinning and there are black dots cornering his vision. He closes his eyes.

He prepares to die.

Then, he hears a voice. It's gentle and it's soft, music to Shouto's ears.

"So we don't forget when we wake up. ...We can write our names!"

He said that, back then. It seems like so long ago. He remembers a marker tickling his skin. Shouto opens his eyes slowly and raises his bruised hand. Through heavy lids, he reads the round, soft Hiragana.

**_I love you._**

Shouto's eyes widen as his trembling lips turn up into a smile. He stands up with some difficulty, staring at the confession with teary eyes. He sobs and he laughs as he thinks of that stranger without a name that has his heart in the palm of his hands, so kind and gentle. "I can't… I can't remember your name with this," he whispers, putting his closed hand to his lips. He takes a last glance at it and he's filled with unshakeable determination. He breaks into a run once more.

He isn't alone or afraid anymore. He can do this. He can face his father.

He can do anything.

He's in love. That boy, too… _They_'re in love. And it's strong and it's freeing and it's the best thing Shouto has ever experienced.

He's going to live and they're going to meet again.

No comet, meteor, or bad parent will stop him.

He's going to live.

He swings the door to his father's office with too much strength for someone who's tired and hungry and on the verge of losing consciousness. He gasps for air, his siblings' worried voices calling out to him in a strange chorus. Only one stands out: "You."

"Shouto?"

He takes in a deep breath, ignores how his body shakes under that bastard's icy gaze, and does something he never thought he'd do: bows to his father. "You have to evacuate the village!"

"Shouto, what are you talking about?" Touya asks, and he can feel his eyes on him, confused.

"Why should I listen to you?"

Shouto holds back rolling his eyes at the man-child in front of him and goes one step further. He kneels on the ground and puts his hands in front of him. "I am begging you, _Enji Todoroki_, my _father _and _mayor _of this village," he says, eyes on the polished floor, trying his best to plead with him, "to evacuate the place."

Silence follows his request. The office's air is thick and tense, and Shouto feels as if he could slice through it with a knife. It's not his father's voice that cuts through it though, but his sister's.

"It's coming down so fast… Dad, please," he hears Fuyumi say, desperation dripping from her every word.

He closes his eyes.

**_I love you._**

He's going to live.


	11. chapter 10

Along the years, Izuku Midoriya has developed a few habits. Staring at the scenery as he rode the train from his part-time jobs to his recently-bought apartment, running his hand through his curls whenever he felt too stressed, staring into his eyes after splashing his face with water in the morning, looking at the palm of his left hand for seemingly no reason at all.

«Next station is Yoyogi,» the announcement plays, awaking Izuku from his daydream of meeting his soulmate by dusk, making him realize he's looking at his hand again. He shakes his head and he looks outside the window in the train door he's leaning against, his hand now flexing in his pocket. The train begins to come to a stop, and outside he sees people in a hurry, tourists languidly walking around, and dark red, curly hair. Izuku's breath stops in his throat and his eyes widen. It's him.

He leaps out of the train as soon as the doors open, frantically searching for that stranger with the utmost need and desperation. People in the station begin to side-eye him, and so he stops, calming himself down. His cheeks turn hot as a blush creeps onto them, and he boards his train again, eyes cast down.

Out of all the strange habits he's developed, he would whole-heartedly agree that this is the strangest: looking for a stranger among the crowd, someone he had never met yet was incredibly close with. He closes his eyes and wipes away tears that slip through his long eyelashes.

Ochako lets out a satisfied sigh after a sip of her sweet tea. Izuku eyes the girl next to her, something extremely familiar about her. Whether it's the cute outfit she wears with frog pins over it, the hair that's held back by hairpins of all colors, or the way she poses with her arms in a raptor-like fashion, Izuku isn't sure. But he knows her. From a dream, he thinks.

"Tenya is stuck at work again," sighs Ochako, eating a bit of cake from the girl's fork. She told Izuku her name but it has slipped his mind by now.

"Yeah, I'm honestly kinda surprised he's content with an office job," Izuku comments as he blows gently on his hot coffee with cream.

"What about you, Deku? How many job interviews have you gotten so far?"

He sips his drink and gently sets the cup down before opening his phone and tapping his Diary app. He always feels a chill run down his spine whenever he uses it, although he can't figure out why for the life of him. He scrolls down, seeing all the entries he's written after an interview. "Just six," Izuku says, defeated. "And only two actually called me back."

"Do you know why that might be, Izuku?"

There's something to her accent and how his name sounds that triggers something in him, making him tear up once more within seconds. "Sorry," he murmurs, wiping his eyes to the napkin they handed him with his order.

"You okay, Deku?"

He nods and smiles despite himself. "Yeah. I just got reminded of someone I knew that's all."

Ochako nods.

"Regardless, I, um, think it's 'cause I'm really nervous a lot," he says, rubbing the back of his head with an apologetic smile. "People are looking for employers with confidence, after all. Someone who constantly mutters to themselves is probably at the bottom of their list." Despite eight years having passed and him now being in therapy, Izuku's self-esteem issues are still rooted deep within him, and although his self-deprecating comments are decreasing, they're still a common thing.

"You just gotta appear confident!" Ochako poses as if she's some kind of superhero. Izuku smiles. She hasn't changed from her carefree high school self.

"She's right," the girl says. "If you look as if you already have the job, you're guaranteed to get it."

Izuku nods and grins. "Thank you!" His phone rings and vibrates with the notification of a new text message. "Oh, it's Tenya. ...He's asking me if I can meet up with him at the station. Are you guys okay if I leave now?"

"Course, Deku! See you soon!"

"See you."

Izuku drinks up the remaining of his coffee as fast as he can, almost choking. He grabs his bag and hastily puts on his jacket as he walks out of the café.

In the distance, Izuku can see a strong arm waving wildly in response to which he only smiles and waves back, quickly making his way to his friend. "Looking for a job, still, Midoriya?" Tenya asks, putting a knuckle to his chin and eyeing Izuku's suit. No matter how much he tells Tenya that he can call him by his first name, he insists on calling him Midoriya. It doesn't really bother Izuku.

"Yeah. I haven't been lucky, though," he complains with a sigh. "You need help with anything?" he asks, once he notices Tenya is carrying some bags with him.

"Not at all! Thank you, though. They're for my brother, who's about to move out. Still empty," he explains, shaking the biggest one. Izuku nods in understanding and they begin walking.

"I was with Ochako when you messaged me," he says, looking up at the sky that begins to turn light shades of orange with the sunset, the street lights slowly blinking as they turn on to illuminate the city. "She's still with that girl," Izuku trails off, trying to somehow hide the fact he can't remember her the name of his best friend's girlfriend.

"Oh, Tsuyu Asui! Yes, yes."

Izuku frowns and he puts his finger to his chin. "Tsuyu," he whispers. Such a familiar name. Yet, he has no idea how. He had never met the young woman until Ochako introduced her to him and Tenya a couple of months ago. "Pretty name."

"It is, yes. Oh." Tenya stops in his tracks, his gaze focused on a gigantic screen near them. Izuku follows his gaze and takes in a breath. The screen is displaying footage of two beautiful lakes seen from the sky and the headline «8 Years Since The Comet Disaster». "Itoni, wasn't it?"

Izuku nods, his heartstrings being nearly ripped from his ribcage.

"We went there, didn't we? We were in our second year of high school," Tenya says in a pondering manner. "It would have been about…"

"Five years ago," Izuku replies automatically. He's glued to the screen, nostalgic for something that he has never experienced. Tears spring to his eyes as he tries to remember that summer. For some unknown, forgotten reason, it always seemed more fun to him than every other break. He, Ochako, and Tenya had gone on some sort of road trip to Itoni, but he doesn't remember most of what happened, or even the reason why such a trip had been scheduled. Tenya and Ochako always tell him the same whenever he asks. "You went to see that friend of yours," they repeatedly explain, leaving Izuku with even more questions. He remembers something; he remembers feeling light, invincible, in love, even. But those emotions are overshadowed by the feeling of an incredible loss that looms over him ever since, one that doesn't leave him no matter how much he tries to shake it off.

He remembers only that dreadful sentiment and having left Tenya and Ochako behind, going back home an entire day after them. Izuku wipes his eyes, tears on the side of his hand a sight he's much too used to. Old habits die hard, after all.

Iida is still watching the news report and Izuku joins him, finding himself lost in his own thoughts again. He remembers all the newspaper articles about the incident, all the rumors and conspiracy theories that plagued every forum he visited. Some people accused the mayor of being shifty, while others praised him for how he handled the evacuation of the population to the local high school, saving hundreds of lives. For some reason, Izuku didn't trust the man in the slightest. While most of the rumors were things that made no sense, such as the comet being tied to local legends of some dragon god, the most famous—and the one Izuku held close to his heart despite disclosing it to no one—was that the comet's visit had been prophesied in some way. The fact the old Itoni Lake had been formed by another meteorite falling and that the town had lost power little over two hours before it crashing only served to further ground the theory.

He remembers the months before the tragedy, months that he spent hyperfocused on the village, drawing it and writing about it whenever he had the possibility, trying his very best to put to paper memories that didn't entirely belong to him. Eventually, after the Tiamat Comet crashed against Itoni, said obsession disappeared. Izuku, however, still feels a certain degree of homesickness whenever he hears its name or sees depictions of it. Besides homesickness, there's a relief that almost as if plagues him. It began after the tragedy, when Izuku read the first article on it. He found himself crying, and the moment repeated over and over again whenever he read about it.

To this day, he still isn't sure why he had been so interested. He didn't know anyone who lived in Itoni.

Tenya puts a hand to his shoulder, robotic as ever, and gives him a smile. "I should get going. Let's make sure us and Uraraka hang out together sometime soon, yes?"

"Yeah!" Izuku says, shoving his confusion and thoughts into the back of his mind, grinning at his friend. "We still have that group chat, just message whenever you're free."

"I shall," he replies, lowering his arms. "I actually know a very good sake bar near my workplace."

Izuku laughs. He had never imagined Tenya would enjoy his drink.

Small rain droplets begin to fall as Izuku makes his way to a local coffee shop to calm his nerves. They wet his hair gently, cold against his scalp, and Izuku closes his jacket as he eyes the sky. Dark grey clouds are above him, almost as if suffocating Tokyo under their grip. He can sense the downpour that is about to begin.

He enters the coffee shop, a recently inaugurated Starbucks, and sits at a table by the window after he orders a black iced coffee, an order that had surprised Ochako when he had ordered it with her by his side. His hands are settled around the cold drink, and he watches as people walk by, the rain forming puddles on the sidewalk that reflect the neon lights of the Starbucks' sign. Halfway through his coffee, he withdraws his agenda from his bag and his phone from his pocket. He quickly writes down all the job interviews he has had, copying them off his phone, and then crosses the ones that he didn't get a call back from with a bright red marker. As he takes a sip of his drink, he hears a familiar yet unknown voice mentioning a wedding.

"I'd like to go to another bridal fair, I think."

"I thought we decided they were all the same, babe," another voice says, even more foreign than the other, though that acquaintance remains.

"Well… yes, that is true. Still, I don't know, love. I want our wedding to be perfect."

He hears the other voice laugh. There's the sound of a soft kiss. "It will be. 'Cause _you're_ there, Momo."

The first laughs, though it's quickly muffled. Izuku's hand freezes as he reaches for his cup. Momo. He knows her. Does he? When he finally gathers the courage to take a peek at the strangers, they're already on their way out. He can see short hair that has been dyed purple, and smooth, soft looking black hair. For some unknown reason, the sight brings him to the softest of tears.

With time, the rain becomes snow and Izuku braces himself for the cold outside as he throws his cup into the trash bin and heads to the door. Just as when he was a child, he takes deep breaths and exhales as strongly as he manages, watching his breath turn into white smoke in front of him. Snow lays upon his jacket and melts at the touch. When a chill runs down his spine, one that has nothing to do with the freezing weather, he notices whoever just walked past him, face covered by a white umbrella decorated with a snowflake pattern. Izuku turns around, a hint of hope blooming in his chest. He watches as the person stops in their tracks, a smile already taking shape upon his lips.

The man, however, doesn't turn, and begins walking again, leaving Izuku's heart shattered in pieces in his gloved hands.

The man? How does Izuku know it's a man? How…?

His apartment is small, compared to the one he lived in with his mother, who he visits every other weekend. He's sitting now in his bed, a book picturing Itoni opened on his lap. Snow outside falls with a grace to it, something that brings Izuku back to an unlived life. He falls asleep like that, his hand draped gently over a picture of a grand house titled "Todoroki Household", dry tears upon it.

Days pass and so do months, as cold fall and winter fade away, the snow melting, buses now rolling over thousands of pink petals. The cherry blossoms are in bloom and they welcome the spring that arrives. People everywhere walk around Tokyo admiring their beauty, locals and tourists alike.

Shouto Todoroki fits under both.

He washes his face with care, always staring at his scars for a little too long, his towel right below them. He shakes his head and reaches for his t-shirt, on top of the closed toilet seat. Since it's his day off, he's decided on taking a walk to look at the cherry blossoms by himself, once Yaoyorozu, Jirou and Tsuyu are all busy. It doesn't exactly bother him, he likes being alone. Definitely more now than he did as a teenager.

He heads to the train station with a belt bag around his chest, his _kumihimo_ wrapped around his left wrist. Deep within his ribs, he feels loneliness and abandonment. He doesn't know why, only that it started after he had begged his father to evacuate the village. Shouto remembers being extremely decided on living, a very drastic change of pace for him. He remembers being in love, something that hasn't happened in a long time. He has talked about it with his therapist, about how no matter how much he tries he doesn't find anyone appealing. "They always lack his kindness," Shouto had stated once. Who "he" is, is a mystery to him. He doesn't know it himself, only that he was the most gentle person he had ever met. He's always searching for him, whoever he might be.

He often reminisces about that year. He doesn't remember it, and his therapist says it's because he probably has repressed memories. Shouto doesn't understand why his brain represses memories of his first love but not of his father.

Shouto looks through the window, admiring the view he's become almost accustomed to, his head gently pressing against the door, a gentle breath leaving his nose.

In that split second, he sees him.

And in that split second, he sees _him_.

Their eyes widen, those tears and smiles so familiar, lost in a far gone shared dusk.

And as they run, sprint through the next station, and hills, and flights of stairs, they wonder: Why? Why are they running? Why do they want to meet? Why do they _have_ to meet?

They both step upon puddles of fresh rain, the sun shining upon them. They run out of breath as they attempt to understand that raw need of being together just a little longer. Like children playing together whose parents are calling them for dinner. Like lovers separated by selfish families. Like…

And on top of that staircase, damp with drizzle, he sees him. Izuku sees the man he has been searching for so long. He has that short curly red hair, those different colored eyes he had written a shitty haiku over, those scars just below.

And at the bottom of that staircase, Shouto sees him. That kind person. That man with the wild curls, the freckles dusted over his face like little constellations he had always dreamed of tracing, those bright green eyes.

They make their way towards each other, steps faltering ever so slightly due to the excitement and cynicism. Shouto's heart pounds in his chest. Izuku's hands tremble. Their eyes are cast down and they remain silent.

An urge overcomes Izuku then, clutching his heart in its rough hand. They aren't strangers who are meeting for the first time, he's sure. He _knows_ this man, and he knows him like no one else does. So, he turns around. "Excuse me! ...Have we met before?"

Shouto flinches only a little and turns around all the same, tears already shining in his eyes as he looks up at the man in front of him. His cheeks are pink, he can feel them heat up. He smiles, and it's still so fragile and insecure, and says, "I thought so, too."

With tears spilling and falling down their cheeks, their voices become one as they say, "Your name…?"


End file.
